Sherlock Holmes: The Case of Alexandria Colt
by TheDoctortardis2011
Summary: Detective Alexandria Colt is a bit bored, and has nothing to do because she's on temporary leave of her job due to injury. So, she decides to mess with the one man who is smart enough to steal her cases. Sherlock Holmes finds Alexandria intriguing. Especially because he has no idea who she really is. And, as they start to work together... he starts feeling funny. John/OC/Sherlock
1. Chapter 1

One: Jessica Hannes

He had me at my life story. Well, it was not quite my life story, but what direction it should go.

I was working, typing away an analysis of the room. Well, it's not like anyone needs the ladies at the information desk. This museum was one of the smaller ones here in London, so there weren't any guests.

It didn't have much, really, for being in a large building. A little bit of this, a little of that, but nothing to extremely interesting. Well, other than the Persian jewelry and books.

In fact, just the other day, our museum director was killed and one of the pieces of jewelry stolen. A single earring with a huge emerald in a gold setting. The earring was worth a lot, so it would certainly be on the black market. I'll keep an eye on it so I can buy it back when it comes up. I'm not a criminal, I assure you. Now, you may not believe me of course, but for now, just take my word for it.

Though I was new at the job, I knew what I was doing. I'd been here for only two days when the museum director was killed. That probably makes me even more suspicious, but what can I do?

"Oh, just break up with him already. You need your sleep." said the man that had come up and leaned on the counter a few seconds ago. I glanced up, barely noticing him.

"What would give you the impression," I asked, " that I had a bad relationship, and... what business is it of yours?"

"You keep flexing your right hand, telling me that you're right handed, and that you've been writing what to say to him, announcing that you know that he's been cheating on you."

"With who, may I ask?" I asked with some derision in my voice.

"Your older sister, who you live with. And, the fact that there are dark circles under your eyes say that you have lost much sleep thinking this over. You have a considerable amount of concealer on to hide the face that you haven't slept in oh... three days."

"Three days?" I asked, still not looking up and taking a sip of my coffee from the mug next to my left hand.

"You've been tallying your coffee. You mark down each time you had some coffee so that you can have some before the caffeine high goes down. Showing you are using the caffeine to keep you awake. I see the corner of your index card there with the first time you drank coffee three days ago." there was silence for a moment. I stopped typing and he stopped talking. So he knew I was surprised at his accurate deductions. How in the world could he possibly gather all of that from just looking at me sitting here? Then, he added, "And it is none of my business."

I looked up and saw him for the first time. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn't let him notice. He smirked anyway, knowing, it seemed, that I found him totally attractive. He was completely my type. Tall, dark, smart, intelligent, brilliant, sharp dresser, handsome... He wasn't the only one who could read people with a glance. I could tell he was a very smart man. Initially, the fastidiousness of his dress might make a casual observer assume this man was gay. However, the obvious interest in my co-worker's bosom gave him away as perfectly straight. He continued smirking, though.

"May I help you in some way?" I asked.

"I would like to see the security camera footage for May seventeenth, at 4:34am." He too was interesting in the murder. A detective, I assume. I couldn't pick up which police district he was from, but it was obvious he worked for them.

"Sir, I work at an Information desk. I don't have that kind of clearance. If you want, I could direct you to the security office." I leaned forward, a bit, putting my elbows on the desk, and intertwining my fingers. I was determined to enjoy this.

"That would be nice, yes." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Top floor, all the way down the hall, take a left. You can't miss it." I grinned.

"Thank you, Miss Hannes." He smiled a real smile and then turns to the shorter, but elder gentleman, blond guy standing back a bit, observing. To be honest, there was flirting going on here. Whether the tall, dark, and handsome detective was aware of it was beyond me. He might, but he doesn't seem like the type to know.

He turned to his friend, nodded, they ran off towards the stairs. They want to see him murdered. See if they can get any idea who killed Mr. Harrison and stole the earring.

"Rachel, I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be back shortly." I said, standing.

Ah, if there was only more time to talk to him, learn about him. The great Sherlock Holmes. I'd heard of him in the office. Great things and bad things. He was apparently a psychopath. An insane psycho. From what I saw, he was pretty much the most intriguing person ever. He didn't seem at all insane. In fact, he seemed analytical and business-like. I entered the loo, still thinking about him.

Would the security guard give him what he wanted? I was still working on getting access to the security office so I could see those tapes myself. Oh, and I have to resign from the case. Since he's on it, it'll be solved in a few days. I sighed. At least Rachel and I like each other. I got a good friend out of this.

I didn't get this case. I wanted this case. It was exciting. Another case as intriguing as this may not come again. Oh well. As I washed my hands, I looked at Jessica Hannes in the mirror. That was not me...

I should probably introduce myself. My name is Alexandria Colt. I am an undercover detective for the London police. I'm told I'm the best they have and at twenty five, I have a long career in front of me. I've been with them for six years. Currently, I'm investigating the murder of James Harrison and the theft of the earring of Princess Anna, who was girl in line for the British crown, and who was engaged to a beautiful Persian prince.

Her earrings were worth a fortune, and now the only known remaining, surviving earring was missing. James Harrison, the museum director, was murdered at the scene of the crime.

Sometimes I don't like this job because I just want to be me. A few months ago, I started a notebook of all of the identities I've undertaken. I've had clever names like Dragina Marion and some embarrassing ones like Maris Cuttlefish.

When I got back, he was leaning against the counter. Rachel looked a little miffed, but she ignored him. "May I help you?" I asked, starting to go behind the desk. Before I could go back, he grabbed my wrist.

"Do you speak Persian?" he asked.

"What?"

"Do you speak Persian?" he repeated.

"H-how-?"

"You keep straining your voice, like you're trying to hold back something, and sometime you fail. You keep shifting between languages. Did you notice just said 'Quod' which means 'What' in Latin. You kept shifting between French and Chinese earlier. So, I assumed that you can also speak Persian. In fact you're about to do it."

"I-I can read it, yes." Then I realized I had spoken Persian. My eyes widened, and he smirked.

"Good. I need your help. Come with me." With a pull, I was being dragged behind him towards the stairs. "It's Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. We're going to the Persian section where the earring was stolen. I'm sure you know plenty about that."

"You're the only one who can understand the language." I must to the language-switch a lot. I'll have to watch that.

"If you would let go, I would follow you willingly." I said, trying not to trip over my tall heels. We stopped, mid grand stair case of the museum. He looked down at my shoes, then back up at me. He let go of my wrist. "Thank you."

"Don't wait up." he said, then hurried up the stairs. Somehow, I managed to keep up. I could have found him anyway, even if he didn't tell me. Persian section, where the earring was stolen. His friend was leaning next to the encased that Holmes was walking right towards. It didn't take a moron to figure out who Sherlock's sidekick . It was obviously, "John Watson." Sherlock introduced his blond friend.

"I apologize in advance and on his behalf for anything offensive or rude be might say. He's just one of those people." John sighed, then smiled to soften his words.

"It's alright." I said, "I've had worse. Plenty worse then this bloody prat." I smirked playfully. This was sure to get on Sherlock Holmes' nerve.

"Now look who's being rude." Sherlock observed, leaning against the cases a little, "I thought the hostess was supposed to be nice."

"_Not _a hostess." I corrected, crossing my arms and walking towards him a little, "I'm the girl who runs the Information desk. I'm not paid to be nice and warm. I'm paid to be informative and smart. If I wasn't smart, I wouldn't be wearing these dark, casual jeans. I'd be wearing a pencil skirt, while trying to_ look _smart. I would be no help to you. Do you have a problem with that?"

"She has a point." John looked from me to Sherlock.

"A point she may have," he stood straight, holding up one finger, "but-" he paused, mid-thought. He was silent for a moment before he turned around, defeated, and looked in the glass case where a letter sat, next to an ink bottle and pen.

"You have silenced the great Holmes." John said, sounding mildly impressed and a bit frightened, "With something so trivial and mundane as your... slimming jeans." He looked like he beat himself for a moment before he turned to face me, "How do you feel about dinner tomorrow night?" My eyes widened a bit, and I fought a smile.

"She has to deal with a cheating boyfriend, John. Maybe just exchange numbers for now. Read this to me." Holmes said, tapping the glass above a letter written for the princess who got her earring stolen.

"Of course." I said. I leaned over the glass looking over the letter. I read it over in my head before I started to recite it. I watched Sherlock's expression as I read it. His expression didn't change from "listening intently" until the end. He pursed his lips and turned to his friend.

"John, I know who did it." He solved the murder form the letter? How the hell'd he do that?

They ran from the room, leaving me there. I followed at a distance. I watched them descend the stairs. Sherlock handed John a piece of notebook paper. John looked at it, then at Sherlock, his eyes wide. I heard Sherlock's laugh from up here. Then, John looked at me. Only for a second, but a second was enough.

As I sat down at my desk, something in my pocket crinkled. Like paper crumbling. Curious, I reached behind me and pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. It didn't have any markings on it, telling me what it might be. I don't remember putting it there, so I opened it. It read:

_"Miss Jessica Hannes,_

_You were very helpful; I will be using your language skills again. I know you have many that you speak. So, since I will be using you again, you need my mobile number._

_I've included John's mobile number. Don't think I didn't hear him ask you out._

_Don't worry. I let him know you have it. I got your number from the sticker on your phone in your back pocket. If you check, it won't be there. I hope you know where to find it. New phone, eh?_

_~Sherlock"_

I laughed aloud. He was very sneaky. I didn't even feel him slip that note into my pocket. He was truly amazing. I laughed again, making Rachel look at me like I was crazy. "What?" I asked with a laugh, "The two guys who were just here put their numbers in my back pocket without my realizing it." I fought more giggles.

"Good luck." Rachel rolled her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two: Maria Colt (Alexandria P.o.V)**

I_ pushed open the door to my flat, startling the two people snogging on the couch. _I looked at the two, sitting on the couch, trying to hide the fact that they had just been kissing, but they knew they'd been caught. I stood there looking at them for a minute before venturing deeper into the flat.

I headed into the kitchen for some tea and when I came back, my glass in hand, I looked down at them. I was upset with them both. I looked at two of the people who were supposed to have been the most important of my life. Now I was just... disappointed.

I'd gotten over it two months ago, so all I needed to do was confront them, and leave. I packed last week, finally thinking I was going to confront them and today had been the only chance with them together in nine days. Now, here they were. Caught. "I've known for a few weeks, now, Maria." I addressed the girl on the couch, who was as far away from my boyfriend as possible, "I'm not stupid, you know. It was easy to deduce."

"I-I know." Maria whispers.

"I am a detective. It's my job to know things other people don't. It's my job to observe and pick things up no one else can see." I said, moving to the middle of the room, "Did you really think you could hide this from me? The smartest person in the Colt family?" I can say that proudly. My family is made up of dropouts and drunks. My sister is the second smartest. At least she has a job. "Now, the longest this could have been going on is about five months. I've known for only about two or three."

"You're smart, Ally. As usual" Nathan, my ex-boyfriend stood, "Three months, Miss Detective."

"Why, Nathan?" I asked, setting my cup on the coffee table.

"Have you ever been with someone, but it just felt... right with someone else and you think you may have never loved the person you were with in the first place?"

"Oh, so you never loved me, so you cheated. How nice."

"Ally, when I met your sister... I just... didn't know what to do."

"I see. You meet my sister, you fall in love with her, you can't break up with me because you do kind of like me, so you go behind my back and ruin my vision of a good big sister, and I lose a boyfriend. We were only five months along. We weren't serious."

"Alexis," my sister stood up, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I know." I said, "I can't stay here, Maria. I already have a flat picked out. I'll think about all of this and get back to you." And so, I left.

_I sat in my new flat, in front of my laptop, researching a case that I had been working on for about a week._ I had solved the case and had begun writing the email report to Detective Inspector Lestrade when I stopped. My hand was hovering over the touch pad, the cursor over the "send" button. I sat my laptop down on the ottoman, pulled it closer, and laid down on the couch.

I looked over the email for typos or other mistakes. I looked over it at least four times. Sherlock could have done this case in two days, max. He was better then me, but I know what I'm doing. I'm a detective. He is, too. We should talk. Although he would just see the condition of my hair and see that I had some dandruff, I had gotten a new part time job at a vet, ate pasta for lunch at an expensive Italian restaurant, seen my father recently, tried on a pair of green socks, fixed a clock, and that my shoes were too tight.

With a sigh, I moved onto my back. I looked up at my yellowing ceiling. It was disgusting here. Two rooms. Main room and a bathroom. I had a pathetic couch with an ottoman, a single, very uncomfortable bed and a side table. It was pathetic.

Well, what can you do? There's not a lot, I'd assume. I have money for a better flat, but I want to solve a few more cases first. Save up a bit.

I hit "send" before I could do anything else to it. About five minutes later, my mobile rang. It was the head of police thanking me. "All in a days work." I said, modestly.

I drifted to sleep, my head filled with the case, and what my next one might be. My dreams were filled with Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, gun fire, car chases and the smell of an explosive chemical. In fact, the smell was so strong, it woke me up from my dream.

My eyes opened. The smell was real. Oh... shit. I jammed my phone in my pocket and my favorite jacket from the couch arm as I ran. I ran out the door, down two flights of stairs. I had barely made it onto the street when the windows shattered and fire blew through them. The explosion was loud and powerful, and my back now hurt, and was probably bleeding.

I started to get up, surrounded by shattered glass and rock. A smaller explosion went off at the top, and rocks fell off the top. Before I can react, I felt a sharp pain in my head, suddenly, and I saw black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three: Greg Lestrade**

_When I woke up, I was disoriented_. I tried to sit up and I felt dizzy. It was six in the morning, I saw from the clock, but I couldn't tell what day it was. I looked out the window. I couldn't tell where I was. My jacket was laying across a chair. It was green. Last time I remember it was blue.

The next time I woke up, it was still dim and quiet. My jacket on the chair was blue again. It was a bit brighter outside the window. I didn't stay awake long enough to really take in anything. Where I was, who I was, what I was doing here...

The third time I woke up, my sister and my mom were there, and a doctor was looking over some papers. My mom looked exhausted, as if she hadn't slept in days. My sister looked a little better then my mom. My mother was the first to see me awake. "Alexandria!" she cried.

"Sis!" Maria exclaimed.

Mom leaned towards me and touched my hair. "Honey," she comforted, "you're alright. You're in the hospital. I'm so happy your awake. They weren't sure when you would wake up. Do you remember what happened?"

"I remember... my flat exploded. I made it out in time, but what about everyone else?"

"They... didn't make it. I'm sorry."

"Mom... Where exactly am I? What happened?"

"You're in St. Bart's hospital. You've been here for four days. You have a minor concussion in the back of your head. A rock or something that struck you."

"I've been unconscious for four days? I have to get back to work!"

"The police have decided to give you some time off. About a month to heal. When they saw that it was you who was injured, they insisted you take time off."

"Mom, I can't. I have to work-"

"Just live with me, Ally. Until you get enough for your own flat, and until your head heals."

"Detective Inspector-" I started to get up, "Where is he?"

"Working, Ally. What do you want him for?"

"I want to work, Mom. I can't just sit here. I feel fine."

"You're not fine, Sweetie. Your back is all torn up. They gave you lots of pain medication."

"It should be wearing off in a few minutes." Doctor Koch said, "Every time your medication was about to wear off, you would wake up, but only for a couple of minutes. I'll go get some now." He turned and left the room.

"Mom. I need to talk to the Detective Inspector." I said, "I was wrong. I know who did it. I-it wasn't Mira. It was Harriet."

"I'll tell him, Ally."

"No, mom. I have to tell him myself. Phone." I asked. I could hear my own voice. It was weak and shaking. I must have taken a hit. My mom reached over to my jacket and pulled my cell phone from my pocket. She handed it to me and I snatched it away from her. Fifteen percent battery. I can't believe it lasted four days. Maybe Mom charged it. I quickly entered the Detective Inspector's number, and let it ring.

"Alexis." he said on the other end when he picked up, "Why are you calling me? You're in the hospital with a concussion."

"Two explosions, D.I." I said. I call him D.I. all the time. I'm the only one who does, "There were two explosions. The second one threw a rock at my head. Harriet does two explosions every time. Mira only does one. Harriet tried to kill me."

"Right. You're right. Sherlock Holmes already figured it out. We're holding her."

"Holmes? Sherlock Holmes was on a case involving my flat?"

"He jumped in at the end. He saw the email you sent. He was very impressed with your work, but once he heard that your flat exploded, he realized that Harriet was involved, too." My mother and my sister exchanged glances before standing up and leaving the room, leaving me be.

"He stole another case." I cried, "He always steals my cases."

"Not all of them, Alex." I heard the pity in my voice. I felt like all of these people think that I'm out of it. I was right, though. I'm always right. My second year, my first one as a detective, and by far the most dangerous case I've ever done, I solved a case with a 102.3 fever and I was one hundred percent correct. Not one flaw. Well, except for the fact that I passed out, literally, once I finished my speech.

"Well, most of them. He just doesn't realize that I'm good. He has to realize that I can handle it." The nurse came in and gave me my medication.

"You'll be out in ten minutes, Crystal." she said, then left the room.

"He probably realizes it. He finished the case because you were unconscious. If you would have been awake, it would have been you, I promise."

"D.I.," I sighed, "Please, can I work? I mean, when I get out of the hospital. Not now."

"I won't let you. You have a concussion, Alex!"

"Do you remember the Bloomingdale case?" I asked.

"Yes... yes I do."

"I had a fever, Lestrade. I walked two blocks to the crime scene to tell you who did it with a fever. Did I get it right?"

"Yes. You did."

"This stupid concussion is nothing." I said, "Give me a word problem. One I haven't heard."

"What is the sentence that had ninety two letters, one comma and a single question mark." I thought for about ten seconds.

"This is not really a puzzle, merely a curious and clever piece of text." I said, "The question mark is in your head. Like, what?" I dragged out the vowel

Lestrade was silent. I could hear him breathing. We just listened for a few minutes to each others breathing. I wanted to work. Then, he said, "This is the second time this has happened. This must be traumatic for you."

"It is the second time this has happened to me. If it was traumatic for me, I would be laying here clutching my head, crying. I'm talking to you instead, aren't I. I'm more upset at you and the damn Sherlock Holmes then anyone else."

"Alex. I'm not letting you work. Get over it." he hung up without another word.

"Lestrade!" I screamed, then cried out in anger.

The next day, I was still wasn't happy that Sherlock kept stealing my cases and that I wasn't allowed to work. I should have known that Sherlock was going to steal my case. The moment I went out of commission, he was right on it. He would swoop in and save the day, solving the case in an instant. Damn Sherlock Holmes.

I was beginning to think I hated him. I've only met him once and I see it. The way he'll smirk at you when he knows that you know he's right is so irritating. The think I did see as cute was the shocked look on his face when he couldn't think of any thing to say back to me. I grinned at that thought. I had that image of his face in my mind like it was yesterday.

He didn't like me. I could tell. I mean, he stole my number so I could translate for him, but that was for work purposes. He didn't like me. Maybe we did flirt, but nowadays, everyone flirts. It's no new thing. He hasn't called yet, though. I would have seen it if he had.

To him, I suddenly realized, I was still Jessica Hannes. I don't like the name, so I would tell him my name was Crystal Greene. It's my second name, really. I use it for everything I don't trust. If mom hadn't decided on Alexandria, she would have named me after her Great Aunt Crystal. She died twenty four years ago, a year after I was born.

What I'll do is apologize for putting a fake name on my job application and and name tag. You see my "boss" was killed and I didn't want to be involved. It was frightening. That's what I'll tell him- Oh, speak of the devil... my phone is ringing.

Yesterday, my mom brought her emergency phone charger. We have the same kind of phone, so it's no problem. I held it, watching it charge. It's not like I could do anything else. Oh, it's Sherlock Holmes who's calling me. Lovely. "Hello?"

"Ah, Jessica Hannes. I see you're awake." he said.

"I'm speaking, aren't I? And in straight unfaltering sentences, too."

"And you are still phasing through languages, I see." I rolled me eyes. There was silence a moment.

"May I be perfectly honest?" I asked, "Because I'm afraid I haven't been very honest with you."

"How so?"

"My name isn't Jessica Hannes. It's Crystal Greene. I lied about my name for security reasons, you see. I heard about the museum directors murder so I changed my name so I wouldn't get involved in it all. No one really knew me yet. I'd been there for only a day or two before he was killed. I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Why would you tell me?" I could just see his facial expression.

"You need a reliable resource. I'm not a reliable resource if you don't know my name. I'm not worth going to."

"Good point. So, how are you feeling, Crystal?"

"Fine... why are you concerned?" I asked, coming to attention, my forehead crinkling, "We've only met once. How did you know I was injured?"

"You don't remember?" he asked. I hoped to god that I didn't do anything too bad.

"Remember what?"

"I was nearby when your flat exploded. When I came to see what the noise was, I saw you. So, I took you to the hospital." he said like it was obvious, "You barely woke up at one point, but you didn't say much."

"I don't remember anything after being hit in the head with a falling rock." I said, "It was almost right away."

"Oh... I see." he said thoughtfully, "It's good your feeling better." he hung up just like that.

I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at it like it was from Mars or something. Wow, he was weird. There were no understanding him. I mean, I was sure he didn't like me, so what the hell was this saving my life?

Well, he obviously wasn't selfish, but he was arrogant. And a case stealer. He has jumped in on so many of my cases, stealing my thunder out from under me. He's so quick with it, too. One minute, I'd be hot on it. So close to solving it. Then, I avert my eyes for a moment and the next thing I know, the case is solved and it has his name on it.

I was getting tired. This has been going on for five years. A year after I joined the police force, and I became a detective, he started doing it. He's been butting in and stealing my experience. Bastard.

The funny thing is, though... we've never met. Until now, that is, and he doesn't even know the real me. I'm kind of glad that he doesn't know who I am. It keeps Alexandria Colt, Epic Undercover Detective who is the best around a mystery. I think I'll keep this up for as long as I can...

I grinned. This should be good. Keeping it a secret will be hard, but I think I can do it. I'll ask Lestrade to help me. He will. He owes me pretty big for this, and he knows it. He sent me freaking sympathy flowers with a note saying, "I owe you one." So, this shall be the one. I laughed. I couldn't wait to see Sherlock Holmes again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four: Sherlock Holmes (Third Person)**

_Sherlock Holmes sat in his armchair, staring at the array of pictures and notes in front of him. _Oh, it wasn't coming together. He needed more. More substance. More data. John dozed in the armchair next to him, his head was starting to loll a bit. "John, it's not enough." Sherlock stood up and started to pace.

It was late. About two in the morning. No wonder John was falling asleep. Sherlock didn't sleep too much during cases. There was too much going on in his head for him to sleep. It was natural for him. He sighed deeply. He'd thought himself into a corner. He didn't know where to look. There had to be another death. Another explosion. Or another double explosion.

The next one, the next anything, would tell him more. It would tell him what he needed to know. He needed to clear his head of all the useless crap clouding his head. He pulled on his coat and scarf. He took his phone with him, slipping it in his pocket just in case something happened while he was out.

He walked for ages, getting everything out of his head. Molly sure looked cute with that new eyeshadow. Gone. John's snoring was getting irritating. Gone. The wallpaper is peeling in the corner. Gone. Why had all of his cases been in English for God's sake! Go- Why did he just think that. He stopped and cocked his head to the side. Interesting.

He decided not to delete that thought and kept going through them all. He continued walking, but he honestly didn't really know where he was until he was shocked back into reality by a smell.

It was a faint smell, but there was a smell. It was of an explosive substance. He took a step forward. The smell got stronger. He started to jog, smelling it more intensely. Finally, he turned a corner. The fuze was laying in the road, lit and burning. It was burning fast. He started to move towards it to see if he could stop it, but it disappeared into the building. He watched in horror, scared of what might happen.

A woman with raven black hair ran out from the building, and had been on the sidewalk for a second and a half when the building exploded behind her. Sherlock ran forward, towards her. She started to get up. She looked fine. A bloody nose, maybe, but nothing more severe. Then, the second, but smaller explosion blew. A rock fell from the building and got her right in the back of the head.

Sherlock reached her then. The girl, laying unconscious in the street, the back of her head bleeding and her nose as well. As he watched, trying to see if she was alive, he noticed the cuts in her back from the glass. Her shirt was in shreds, and her back was all cut up. He looked at the things clutched in her hands. Her phone and a jacket.

He pocketed the phone, and moved her jacket out of the way. He was completely ignoring the burning building. He knew who did it now. Now, this woman was all that mattered. She was alive, but weak.

He carefully rolled her over, so he could pick her up and take her to the hospital. Then, he saw who it was. Jessica Hannes. He met her a couple of days ago, at the museum. "Jessica." he whispered. He grabbed her jacket, lifted her torso, and put her jacket around her shoulders.

Then, he lifted her into his arms, suddenly more desperate. Her face was paling, but bloody. Her shoulders where he held her was warm with blood from both her head and back. He breathed in sharply at the warmth. He turned and started to go towards the hospital, ignoring the police and fire truck sirens a few blocks away. Then, she spoke, not opening her eyes. "Who are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes. We met the other day."

"I remember. Why are you carrying me? I can walk. Let me down." She started to struggle, but he bounced her a little so he could hold her better, and she gasped in pain, as if she just registered it.

"No, you can't, Jessica. I need to get you to the hospital."

"Please, I have to- ah." she gasped, "I have to tell him I was wrong. I-it was Harriet." He looks at her strangely. What made her say that? She had a concussion. It was obvious. With a blow like that. It was a wonder she was conscious.

"I'm going to take care of you, Jessica. For now, you don't have to be strong like at the museum. Let go."

"It hurts, Sherlock." She started to cry, but she did her best to control it. The pain must have been horrible. She clutched his coat in her hands, burying her face in it to muffle her sobs. Usually, he wouldn't let anyone do this. She... she would be needed. She spoke a few languages that he may need to know in the future.

At least... that was his excuse.

She slowly fell back into unconsciousness and when they got to the hospital, they took one look at her and whisked her away from him, getting to work on what happened. He was questioned a bit about what happened, then they left her alone. They asked her name. Just at that moment, her phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket. It was a text. The message was shown at the top, so he didn't bother to open the phones lock. "Crystal Greene! Are you alright. The police just phoned me! ~Mom"

"Crystal Greene." the consulting detective said. So she lied about her name. When she wakes up, she'll have a lot of explaining to do. Then, he noticed his coat. Darkened a bit with blood. Oh, bother. Now he's have to get a new one. This was his favorite coat, too, darn it.

He waited for a few hours, until six, would you believe it, until she was moved to a room. The doctor said that her family had been contacted and should be there in a matter of minutes. Sherlock went into her room one last time to see her and laid her phone on the table, and jacket on the chair next to the bed. As he left, he heard her moan suddenly. He turned. She was stirring a bit. She looked at her jacket, blue. A very nice color for her, and squinted her eyes. She glanced at the clock before slipping back to sleep.

_Sherlock ventured up the stairs, the blood dried now. _He would go get a coat tomorrow, he kept thinking to himself. At the sound of his footsteps, John awoke with a start. "Explosions all around." he mumbled as he opened his eyes.

"There was another one." Sherlock said, taking off his coat.

"Another explosion? Where?"

"Jessica Hannes, actually Crystal Greene, long story, anyway her flat, some twenty four blocks from here."

"Who the hell is Jess-" Watson sat up straight, "Jessica Hannes... O-or Crystal Green, what? Tall, black hair, talked you speechless?"

"Yes, her." Sherlock fell into the arm chair beside Watson, balanced his elbows on the arms, pressed his palms together and gently rested his hands to his chin.

"She... died. So much for dinner."

"No. She didn't die. She made it out at the last second. She's unconscious, though. She has a minor concussion. When I say minor, I mean about a week and half, and that rock hit her hard."

"You... saw her?"

"I was walking to clear my head of all of the useless junk in there when I smelled that explosive that Mira and Harriet use. I followed the smell to her flat. I was down the street when she ran out the door. He was outside for about a second or two before her flat exploded. Then, it exploded again. That one dropped a rock onto her has. Glass scraped up her back like hell. How did she even know that stuff was explosive?" Sherlock mused.

"What do you mean?"

"She knew to leave the building. Not many people can recognize that smell. Who is she?"

"You couldn't tell?"

"No. I could tell that she confronted her sister and moved out. She broke up with her boyfriend and moved to a dump. Why? Her jacket was designer, and so were her shoes the other day. Her phone is an iPhone, so it's expensive. Why is she living in a run down place like that if she seems to have money? No. I don't know anything about her. I couldn't pick anything up, other then her boyfriend and her sister." Sherlock stood and started pacing, "How did she know about Harriet? As I took her to the hospital, she said that it was Harriet. Two explosions.

"From the look of things, she has been in another explosion before... In fact, this case has been running for a while. They couldn't find her because she dropped off of the face of the planet for a while, and has only been recently active again. She must know something about it. I feel like this... this has happened to her before. This isn't her first explosion to be in. It's her second. Who is Crystal Greene?"

"Why is Jessica Hannes now Crystal Greene?"

"I don't know. I haven't had the chance to ask her yet. She's unconscious." Sherlock sighed.

_Later that day (it was about seven o' clock when Sherlock got home), the two detectives went to the police station to tell Lestrade it was Harriet_. Sherlock took the credit, but it was really an ordinary person who solved the case. He was intrigued by this mysterious girl, Crystal Greene.

Then, he noticed something strange. There was a card being passed around the office. It was large, so everyone could fit their names on it. By slightly closer examination... "Who got sick?"

"The best detective we have." Lestrade said.

"But, I'm fine." Sherlock said.

"The best detective we have who works for us. Detective Alex. Alex recently got into an accident and is bedridden in the hospital. Alex will be fine, though. Minor injuries, but it may take a while to recover. You know... stress."

"Who is this Detective Alex, and how come I have never heard of him." Sherlock asked, turning on the Detective Inspector, honestly curious.

"Alex has been working with us for six years, and you've never heard of him?" Lestrade asked. Lestrade knew that Alexandria wasn't exactly happy with Sherlock for stealing all of her cases, so he decided to try to hide her identity. Later, if she asked, then he would tell Sherlock who she was, but for now... just pretend.

"No. Never." How could Sherlock have missed this?

"Here, I'll get you one of his reports. The Bloomingdale case was particularly impressive." Lestrade left the room for her case, walking away from the two detectives. Until Alexis woke up, she was a guy. Or Crystal Greene.

Sherlock was peeved, back at the office. "The best detective they have and I have never even heard of him? Do they even give him any cases? Why would I not have heard of him?"

"Sometimes you jump in in the middle of a case, do you notice? Maybe you steal his cases, so you never see his name in the papers. You only see yours." John stated.

"Do I really do that? Jump in... by the time he's almost done?"

"There's a reason the police are sometimes reluctant, Sherlock."

"How do you know that?"

"Unlike you, I actually talk to the employees here. Sometimes, he's way ahead of you. People like him here."

"Someone who is better then me?"

"You could say that..."

Just then, Lestrade brought back a few folders. They were the ones that didn't tell her gender at all. You couldn't tell she was a girl. The Bloomingdale case may have a sentence or two, but it's not all that obvious. He set the four cases in front of Sherlock. "Here they are."

Sherlock sat down, pulled a case towards him, flipped it open, and started to read. John sat down, and picked another case to read. They read and read. After a few minutes, they handed each other the case they were reading. Sherlock had a look of astonishment on his face, and John thought he was possibly turning bi for this guy.

Even Sherlock Holmes thought he was smart. Then, John read the Bloomingdale case. By the end, his mouth was agape. Sherlock looked over at him, tried to close it, but it fell right back open again. He took the Bloomingdale case from John and began to read. By the end, Sherlock couldn't believe what he'd just read. He was only nineteen, almost twenty, and he solved a case. With a fever. In the rain.

He began to want to meet this guy. He knew that at the hospital his name would be different, so he may never find him. "Once he gets out of the hospital, and back to work, call me." Sherlock stood.

"Why?" Lestrade asked.

"I want to meet him."

_A couple of days later, (on Alex's fifth day in the hospital), Sherlock sat in his armchair, staring at his cell phone_. Was she awake? Would she remember anything? Was she okay?

It was odd for him to be worrying about her, but she did have to tell him what happened, and why she knew that the smell meant something explosive was in the area. He looked at the phone for the longest time before finally giving up. "Hello?" she asked on the other end.

"Ah, Jessica Hannes. I see you're awake." he said, almost relieved.

"I'm speaking, aren't I? And in straight unfaltering sentences, too."

"And you are still phasing through languages, I see." Sherlock smirked for only a few seconds.

"May I be perfectly honest?" she asked, "Because I'm afraid I haven't been very honest with you."

"How so?" he knew what was coming.

"My name isn't Jessica Hannes. It's Crystal Greene." Knew it! "I lied about my name for security reasons, you see. I heard about the museum directors murder so I changed my name so I wouldn't get involved in it all. No one really knew me yet. I'd been there for only a day or two before he was killed. I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Why would you tell me?" He knew she didn't kill him. She didn't seem like one at all. It was obvious she wasn't a murderer.

"You need a reliable resource. I'm not a reliable resource if you don't know my name. I'm not worth going to."

"Good point. So, how are you feeling, Crystal?" Sherlock breathed out. She was good...

"Fine... why are you concerned? We've only met once. How did you know I was injured?" He could hear it in her voice that she wished he would say "Lucky guess." Not happening.

"You don't remember?" he asked, confused.

"Remember what?"

"I was nearby when your flat exploded. When I came to see what the noise was, I saw you. So, I took you to the hospital." he said like it was obvious, "You barely woke up at one point, but you didn't say much."

"I don't remember anything after being hit in the head with a falling rock." she said, "It was almost right away."

"Oh... I see." he said thoughtfully, "It's good your feeling better." he hung up just like that. He stared straight. She was an interesting one for sure.

She couldn't remember... alright then. Sherlock was a little upset, but he didn't dwell on it for too long. He had a case to solve.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five: John Watson (Alexandria P.o.V)**

_I left the hospital on day twelve. _I went to live at my mothers flat for a while. We went out and bought me more clothes, a laptop, new furniture, and renewed some of my debit cards and my I.D. card that was all lost in the explosion.

September 9th to the 17th, I lived at my mom's place. During all of this, I looked for a flat for myself, and I finally found one. So, I moved out eight days later and moved into a really cute place at 221A, Baker Street.

I spent all of the eighteenth day of September moving in. By the end of the nineteenth, I was bored. Bored. There was nothing to do. I didn't want to go out, really. There was nothing to do on the computer. I've done all of that already. I could go see a movie, I guess, but I want to get used to my flat.

I plopped down on the couch, lounging. There was nothing to do. No one to see. My best friend, Vanessa, was on a date with her boyfriend Brian tonight, so we couldn't do anything together. Then, phone rang. "Hello?" I asked, keeping myself on my side, but my head was turned and I was staring up at my white ceiling.

"Do you speak French, Crystal?" the voice asked on the other side.

"How did you know?" It was obviously Sherlock.

"The way you speak. I can hear your strain to speak English. And you spoke it at the museum. For good reason, I understand. How many are there... eleven?"

"Lucky guess. Twelve if you count English."

"Ah, yes. Of course. How did you manage twelve languages?"

"Through high school and college I doubled or tripled on language classes."

"Don't they get mixed up."

"Oh, all the time. People do sometimes understand though." I laughed.

"Anyway, I need a translation."

"Of what?"

"You'll see. Do you live in 221A or 220B. Wait. Never mind. I'll guess." He ended the call right there, leaving me staring at my phone in wonder. Who the hell was this guy anyway?

Then, the doorbell rang. No way... I stood and hurried over to the door. I peered out the peep hole. Sherlock and John stood there. No freakin' way. I opened the door leaned against the door frame, crossed my arms, and looking at them curiously. "How did you find me?"

"We live in 221B." Sherlock grinned hugely.

"Do you, now?" I asked, ignoring the thumping in my heart. It was weird. As I looked at both individually, I realized I didn't know who was making me do this.

"Yes. We thought you'd better come say hello. Well, of course, I smelled your perfume, first before I thought we'd come over and say hi."

"I was serious about dinner." John states. I smile at him.

"Of course. I'd love to." I said, not bothering for Sherlock's expression. I knew right away when I saw John that I would like him. He was by far more likable then Sherlock, the way I see it. He's sarcastic, he's got the physical comedy thing going, he's nice, and he is pretty cute.

"We're not working on a case right now, so I suppose any time is fine."

"I have nothing going on tonight. I am bored." I said.

"Sure, no problem."

"Dinner and a movie?"

"Of course." John grinned.

"I'll be ready in ten minutes."

"But-" Sherlock said, "You have to translate-" I closed the door in his face, then called behind him.

"It was slipped into your pocket, Sherlock. It was given to you by some foreign exchange student. Were you on a college campus recently?" I called.

"How did she know..." I heard him mumble.

"It says, 'Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again.' Not a case started, Sherlock. Sorry. John, just wait there a moment."

I ducked into my bedroom and changed into the nicest thing I had. A long, blue sweater, dark jeans, some blue and silver jewelry and my new black boots. I did my hair in a loose bun, making it nice, but casual. I did light make up, and left my phone at home.

When I opened the door, both John and Sherlock were still there. I eyes Sherlock curiously. "Is he coming?" I asked, pointing to Sherlock. He gave me a look like Fine then left, leaving John and I alone. "Hi." I said, holding out my hand, "I'm Crystal Greene."

"I'm John Watson." he laughed, taking my hand.

"What movie should we see?" We started downstairs.

"Let's talk about it over dinner."

_"And then I said..." I said, and paused, trying to think of a punchline_. Since I was a made up girl, I had a made up story as well, "I've got a problem for your solution." John and I burst into laughter.

I was right. He was funny, and he appreciated good humor. I learned about his whole military life, and what high school was like for him. Every time he asked me about my life, I gave him a few unhelpful adjectives and asked him more about himself.

He liked working with Sherlock Holmes, it was fun, and gave him a sense of adventure. He kind of missed being in the war, believe it or not, and investigating murders was fun. There was suspense in it.

He suspected that Holmes was gay. Quite gay. I informed him that he was not. Definitely not gay. He asked how I knew. "Intuition." I said, raising an eyebrow, "And he kept staring at Rachel's boobs the other day. Like, he couldn't really concentrate on our conversation."

"It wasn't a conversation. You two were flirting. I've never seen him flirt with anyone before." John said, laughing a bit.

"Really? Never? Why would he choose to flirt with me?"

"He wanted to know where the security room was, I suppose. Still, even when he wants to get somewhere high-access, he never flirts."

"I'm nothing to flirt with. I'm boring." I said, taking a drink of my soda.

"I can't deny that, Crystal. Tell me about yourself."

"Well," I decided to go from truth to lies, "I lived in America for the first few years of my life before I moved to Korea for a couple of years. My mother spoke it fluently and she understood the culture. I was four when we moved. Then, when I was seven, we moved to London. When I was eleven, my dad was killed. Murdered. The police never found who killed him. High school was hard without him, but I pushed through. Actually, during my junior year, I took the SAT test one weekend and I got a high score. So, I took night time college classes while I decided what I wanted to do. I didn't know for the longest time what I wanted to do. Now, I'm finally saving up for school again. I want to be a history teacher."

"A history teacher. You're working in the right place."

"I quit." I said, "I don't know when I'll be back to work. My back has to heal, still. It hurts to touch more then clothes to it, and still it stings."

"Do you have something on it?"

"No. I'm fine, though. I'll last." I smiled reassuringly.

After a very nice Italian dinner, we went to the cinema. We saw an interesting mystery, romance, action, comedy movie that was a perfect blend of everything. We were startled, intrigued, entranced, and we kept whispering theories to each other about the turnout. Get this. It was actually a movie based off of a trilogy, and the next movie wasn't coming out until early next year. We stared at the screen for the longest time, shocked at the cliffhanger. "We'll have to do this again." I said, "To see what happens." Once we were out on the street, a little closer to home and finally getting our heads back on Earth, we burst out laughing.

"Interesting." John said, "It was very interesting."

"I liked it. I'll have to find the book."

"Me as well."

"John, we really should do this again." I stated.

"I agree. I had an excellent time tonight, Crystal. Dinner, again tomorrow?"

"Of course." I looked over at him and smiled, "I would love to do this again.

"I am truly amazed at how you silenced Sherlock the other day. I am very impressed."

"Thank you." I laughed, "It was fun. I could tell he was one of those super duper smart guys right away, so I could tell that he was upset when I did that."

"He was. He made it very clear the other day." We laughed together, "Oh, and I'm sorry I didn't visit or get you any flowers or something when you were in the hospital."

"It's fine." I assured him.

"I'll make it up to you."

"You just did, John. You gave me a wonderful time." We stopped between the two doors, one that said "221B" and one that said "221A." I moved so I was standing in front of him. We looked at each other for the longest time, grinning. "I'm glad we finally did this." I said.

"Me, too." John said.

There was a suspense, suddenly in the air. I knew what was supposed to come. A kiss at the end of the first date. Instead, as he leaned forward, I said, "Thank you for the date, John. I'll see you tomorrow night. How about six?" I asked, smiling and turning around and going inside my flat, giving him once last glance before pushing inside.

I pushed my back against the door once I got inside. Well, tonight was interesting... I managed to make up a life story. So, I decided to expand on it. Not too far, though. I wanted to see if they'd find out that I was Detective Alex. I mean, our alibi's matched up. This was a test for the great Sherlock Holmes. Let's see how well he does.

_I lay on my stomach on my couch, my shirt off, and my bra undone but not off. _My pants were still on, so don't worry. It was the day after Watson and I's first date, and my back was hurting pretty bad, and I remembered that John was a doctor, so I called him over at about five in the evening.

He didn't see it at all awkward that I was letting him see my back. He brought his medical kit like I asked, and he was now applying antibiotics. "Thank you for doing this. It was getting painful."

"Oh, no problem. We can bind it in some gauze when I'm done. You sure chewed up your back."

"I didn't. The glass did." I sighed, ignoring the stinging.

"The gauze may feel weird when I put it on, but it'll keep it from feeling weird on your shirt."

"Alright."

The putting-on-gauze thing was slightly awkward because his fingers accidentally grazed my boobs a couple of times. John would cough uncomfortably every time he did, but I didn't say anything. Once I was done being bandaged, he turned around so I could redress. "Well, it seems like we can go out early." I said.

"Did your back really hurt?" John asked suddenly.

"A little, but I couldn't wait any more for tonight."

"Let's go, then." John said.

"Let's." I said, standing and going over to the table by the door where my coat and bag was.

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in a Thai restaurant waiting for our food. I was mighty hungry, so I couldn't really think straight. John sat there, leaning on one elbow, just looking at me. "So, what is it like working for Sherlock Holmes?" I finally asked.

"It's interesting. It's exciting. There's always something exciting. It keeps you thinking. To be honest, since the day I met him I haven't had a dream that hasn't been like a fever dream. I'd say... almost a year now. It's all in good fun, really. I've almost died several times. At least four times a month I get almost killed."

"You must get such a sense of adventure." I said, leaning forward a bit.

"Yes, I do." Watson said, grinning, "And I'll never get tired of it."

I missed adventure. Running around, investigating a murder case or a serial thief. I've almost been killed more times to count. That dangerous suspense with the killers hand on the trigger, a knife held to my throat, two cups set in front of me, one filled with vodka and one with poison, a pill filled with poison pressed to the inside of my cheek. The whole time, my heart was racing, and I was loving it. On the edge of death, and not knowing if I was going to live... I'd only been away from it a couple of days, but knowing I was not going to do it for a whole month... I missed it already and it had only been a couple of days. "I'm glad I can be a help to you. Even if I'm only your translator." I smiled.

"Yesterday, did that note really say that about love at first sight from that French girl?" John asked, obviously anticipating the answer.

"Of course." I said, "He's an undeniably attractive man, so it's not a surprise that someone would do that."

"You think he's attractive?" asked John, raising an eyebrow.

"He's attractive... in his own weird way. And I like his hair. You, however, are attractive on a whole other, higher, level."

"Really?" he sounded unsure.

"Yes." I said, my eyes widening and my voice turning to alarm, "You're very attractive. Ten times more so then Sherlock, without a doubt. Now, let's talk about something else."

"Agreed. So, how do you feel about Shakespeare?"

That night, he surprised me with a show at the Open Air Theater in Regents Park. A Midsummer's Night Dream. We didn't get home until eleven o' clock. We stopped in front of our flats, well, more in front of his. I smiled. "I had a wonderful time tonight, John. Thank you for taking me to the show. It was very interesting." I laughed.

"It was. For some reason, that is one of my favorite plays by him." John said.

"You know, John..." I said, turning to him, "I enjoy your company very much."

"Good. I enjoy yours." We stopped in front of his flat, mine next door to the right.

"I'm afraid I can't go out tomorrow, though." I said, "I have a few appointments to go to."

"Me too, I'm afraid. I have work."

"Ah, yes."

"I'll see you later then."

"Good night." I said.

"Good night, Crystal." John said.

There was that tension again. The kind of tension where there was a kiss in your near future. I planned not to see it through, and I started to turn, but he held onto my hand and pulled me gently back to him, his other hand gently touching my cheek. "You're not getting off with it this time." he whispered.

Our lips came together in a tender kiss. It only took a few seconds for my eyes to close and for me to go along with it and kiss him lightly back. We parted just enough to twist our heads without our noses bumping awkwardly together before we kissed again, with a little more pressure this time. After only about two minutes of kissing, we pulled apart.

It was one hell of a good first kiss. Not my first kiss, of course, but of John and I's. It was very romantic, I thought. I liked John, I decided. My heart raced now, when I opened my eyes and saw him. I smiled and he smiled, almost in relief. "Good night, John." I said, then went over to my flat.

I pushed open the door, stepped inside, then pressed the door closed with my back. My grin went from ear to ear. I had underestimated John. He'd tried to kiss me three times between last night and now. On the fourth, I finally did it.

To be perfectly honest, it was worth the wait.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six: Jacqueline LeClair**

_Though I didn't work at the museum, and I couldn't be a detective, I still needed a job. _So, I went to job interviews. Just for part-time jobs. I went as Crystal Greene, obviously. Well, for most of them anyway. I screwed up a few times and said my real name.

I looked at a being a waitress in a small cafe, but the job was filled. I tried at a coffee shop, but that job was filled as well. I also tried a language teacher at a school, but they actually had the position filled, believe it or not.

Getting a job was harder then I thought. During my interview for the teacher, I flirted with the guy I was so desperate for a job. My next interview wasn't for another hour, so I decided to go to Starbucks (not hiring, damn it) for some coffee while I mulled over what was going to happen at the next one.

I sat there, trying to perk up with this coffee. It was not working. I was sure that four times was a charm, but this is going to be a long job hunt. I sighed into my coffee as I started to take a sip. "Have a case of the Monday's do we?" said an all too familiar voice suddenly.

Sherlock sat behind me at another table, but our backs were facing each other. I was not in the mood to deal with a smart-ass like Sherlock Holmes. I was having a very bad day.

What the hell was he even doing here? Of course, I didn't know about any cases that were going on, so who knows what he's doing here. He couldn't be on a case in a Starbucks. He could stalking me? For some reason, I wouldn't be surprised.

"I'm not in the mood, Sherlock." I said, gripping my coffee cup a little tighter.

"What are you not in the mood for?"

"Dealing with you." I said pointedly. With that, I put my bag on my shoulder, grabbed my coffee, and headed out the door. However, he was right behind me.

"I can help you find a job if you'd like." he offered, easily keep up with me, taking long strides to stay at my side. "I have my connections."

"Thank you for your offer, but I think I can find my own damn job." I snapped.

"Just offering." he shrugged, "Where are you off to next? I'll accompany you."

"Don't you have a case to go stick your nose in or something?"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"I suppose I did. And then, I had three job interviews since six thirty this morning and still nothing."

"I see you had a pretty bad day."

"You could say that." I sighed and took a drink of coffee. I glanced up at Big Ben a few blocks away.

The day wasn't even half over and I was mad at the world. Well, more at Harriet and Mira. They ruined my life. Three times. Once eighteen years ago, once five years ago, and once two weeks ago. Right when I needed it most, they took away all of my ability to make this game more interesting.

The game wasn't much of a game yet, and I was just playing with John. Telling him all about Crystal Greene, and not Detective Alexandria Colt. So far, I've been keeping it up pretty well. John did mention learning of a detective who was very talented. He said that he wanted to meet this man and compliment him on his good work. I went home after that and had a good laugh. Keeping this facade up was going to be easy.

"Would you like to cheer up, some?" Sherlock asked.

"I only have," I checked my watch, "Forty four minutes until I have to be there. The walk takes only twenty minutes from here. Can you think of anything to do in twenty four minutes between here and there?" Sherlock thought for about a minute.

"Lunch?" he asked, grinning.

"Or... a stake out?" I asked, knowing that's what it really was.

"I suppose. If you want to call it that."

_"Ah, Sherlock Holmes!" cried the waitress, "I see you brought a date." Sherlock grinned, but I insisted I wasn't his date_. The waitress ignored me, obviously and brought us wine. In the middle of the day. I knew Sherlock was going to run off randomly at some point. He kept glancing out the window. I knew it. He was obviously on a stakeout and I was just there to make it look casual.

"Well, I see where this date is going." I said sarcastically.

"Absolutely nowhere." Sherlock drawled and leaned back a little, still looking out the window.

"I suspected so." I sighed, picking at my salad with my fork.

"You're very good at picking up things like that." Playful sarcasm was in his voice.

"I'm not an idiot you know."

"I never said you were, though many people are."

"Many people... Is John an idiot? Am I an idiot?"

"John... he's not as much as an idiot as he could be. He's smart. You..." he looked over at me, "I don't think you're an idiot either."

"Why?"

"You knew your boyfriend was cheating on you for three months before telling him, you speak twelve languages, and you knew that the smell in your flat was the smell of an explosive. I wouldn't call you an idiot."

"Thank you." I said, smiling. Sherlock looked over at me, also smiling.

I noticed our waitress, who was walking towards us, turn sharply on her heels when she saw us, but Sherlock stopped her without even looking at her. He turned his gaze back to the street as the waitress gave me my pasta. I knew he wasn't going to eat. He was simply odd like that.

I ate slowly, keeping my eyes on Sherlock. Still, after my lunch about ten minutes later, Sherlock hadn't moved much. I paid for my lunch and Sherlock's coffee. Once I had paid, I sat there for a moment, leaning back in my chair, looking at him. He didn't seem to feel my gaze, but if he did, then he didn't make a move to show it.

After a few minutes, I sighed and started to get up, but Sherlock whispered, "Wait." I stopped and looked at him. What the hell was happening? Was something about to happen? I hoped so. I wanted to get back into the action. I wanted to run after a serial killer who was going to strike again. I wanted to follow the clues and beat Sherlock Holmes' ass at this "detective" thing.

"What?" I asked.

"There's someone at his flat, Crystal." He looked excited, and just by the look in his eye, he wanted me to come along with him.

"I'm not a detective, Sherlock. I want to be a history teacher. Besides, I have to recover from my back." my heart stung with the lie.

"A history teacher. What an interesting career choice." Sherlock stood and started to move to the door. He stopped for just a moment, looked back at me and grinned, "It won't take more then ten minutes." Oh, how I longed for adventure again. I wanted to run...

"I'm afraid it's not my area." I said, drawing out the word, "Go ahead. You'll miss the killer."

He ran out, not bothering to notice that I dropped the hint that I knew what he was doing, which means I have access to the on-going police report. Which means that I am a detective. He still looked right past it. Well, there wasn't a lot I could do now.

_"You've got the job." Jacqueline LeClair told me later that afternoon. _She made my day that afternoon, giving me a job at a cute little bookshop. It was a two story shop, a tea shop on the bottom floor and books on the top.

When I told her that she had made my day, she laughed and offered tea. She was a beautiful girl. Just a year or two older then me with cherry red hair and soft green eyes. She was nice as well, and seemed like she had a lot going for her.

As we talked over tea, she explained that she was saving up to get back into school. She had to drop out due to not enough money. She wanted to be an English and drama teacher. She said that she was an excellent actress, but didn't mean to boast. She was very modest, I picked up. She wore jeans that weren't all that tight, but tight enough, a loose t-shirt with a neckline right up to her neck, and her hair was covered by a purple hairband.

Then she asked me about myself.

I totally forgot the name I gave her. I might have put my real name on the job application. I did for a few of them, and I can't remember which ones. I needed to think of a way to trick my name out of her. I could zone out, but I don't want to be rude...

Suddenly, my phone rang. We both jumped, Jacqueline dropped her teacup, but it managed to land straight up in her saucer. We shared a laugh. "I'm sorry." I checked the caller I.D. "I'm afraid I have to take this."

"Oh, go ahead." Jacqueline waved her hand a bit, and I went a little up the stairs to the bookshop.

"This had better be important." I snapped, "I'm in the middle of an interview."

"No, you're not. You got the job. You're just sitting over tea. Do you by any chance speak Japanese?"

"Are you stalking me or something?"

"No. Just... following secretly at a distance."

"Why do you want me to speak Japanese?"

"The man I caught this afternoon is Japanese and only knows a few words of English. We need you to question him."

"Like... at the police station?"

"Yes. None of the officers speak Japanese. Mostly Spanish and French."

"Well, I'm busy. I'm afraid I can't put my life on hold just for you or a stupid case. Can't you find a Japanese teacher or something."

"No. You're the most reliable source I have, I'm afraid. Shall I give you the address, wait on the street corner, or barge in and make a scene. You know I will. I know you're quite smart. Which method will you use?" he said. I could tell he was smirking.

"Um, let's see." I drew out the words and I moved all the way upstairs and moved to a corner where a window and a fire escape was. I slowly opened the window.

"Stop stalling, Crystal."

"Let's see if you can find me first." I hung up and called, "Be back, Jacqueline! Just go along with it."

"Crystal?" she called in surprise.

With that, I played dramatic music in my head and climbed out the window and down the fire escape. I closed the window before I hurried down the metal stairs. Once down the stairs and in the alley, I looked behind me. He was nowhere in sight.

I ran as fast as I could out of the alley and into the street. I looked for him both ways, and there was nothing. I ran across the street and away from the alley. I looked behind me and he still wasn't there. I weaved in and out of the people on the street who looked at me strangely.

I looked back a few times as I ran and after a few minutes, I realized I wasn't being chased. I slowed to a stop as I rounded a corner. I bent over, catching my breath. I breathed heavily wishing I had some water. After a minute or so of heaving, I stood straight, looked around me, and jumped back in shock.

Leaning on the wall on one shoulder, was Sherlock Holmes. I stared at him, my mouth slightly open in surprise. He looked at me, expressionless, for a moment before he broke into an aggravating smirk.

"Well, that was fun." he said, leaned forward, grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" I asked, pulling easily from the light grip he had on my wrist.

"I told you that I need help translating a language."

"And I told you no. I'm having tea with a friend."

"A new friend. Ooh, what a bad impression." Sherlock said sarcastically, then grabbed my arm roughly, pulled me into the mouth of another alley and pushed me against the wall, both of his hands pinning my arms to the wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" I cried.

"If you don't help me I can have you suspected in the case I am working on and I can have your flat raided. You will be in prison with police interrogating you on every side. Detective Inspector Lestrade will be the worse. They always listen to what I have to say, and when I solve this case, I can involve you in it because I am just that good and you will be sent away forever. Is that how you want this to go?"

"Would you really do that? Especially to John's girlfriend?" I asked. Inside, I was laughing. If they heard the name "Crystal Greene" the police would cower in fear. Besides, Lestrade wouldn't even initiate it. Not even at Sherlock's demand.

"Watch me." Sherlock said in a low, menacing voice. I wished I could tell him, but I just kept along with it.

"You're kidding, right? What is this case about, anyway?"

"Drug dealers who went to far and is killing off their clients."

"I'm going to be a history teacher, Sherlock." I laughed, "I'm going to be around kids. I don't think the police will buy it. Oh, and I'm friends with Lestrade. Close friends." If you know what I mean.

Aw, shut up. I know what you're thinking. Jeez. It was only once, I was twenty two, he was thirty. He looks older then he actually is. Anyway, we were hammered. We were so drunk, I'm surprised we even remembered it. We promised never to drink with each other again unless we had different people taking us home.

"Close friends." Sherlock's eyes widened, "Does his wife know? Does John know?"

"He met his wife the next day, and John doesn't need to know about my past relationships. In any case, the police wouldn't lay a hand on me."

"Of course." Sherlock mused.

"In any case, I'll help. How long with this take?"

"I'd say... forty five minutes, but it takes twenty minutes to get there if we're walking."

"Let me inform Jacqueline that I'll be a while."

_Sherlock and I walked side by side towards headquarters. _I was quite upset with Sherlock. I'd had a bad day and he just made it worse. Once my day had an upward curve, Sherlock swooped in again and made it worse. It had only been good for about an hour, too. Now, it was three in the afternoon and I was getting nowhere with my good day.

Does someone have it out for me or something? Well, with the amount of enemies I had that were still on the loose, I wouldn't be surprised. Sherlock seemed to enjoy the fact that I was upset at everything. He had this vexing smirk on his face. Maybe he had it out for me and was trying to make my life miserable.

Oh, if only I could trip him or something. Sadly, it's actually sunny today and there are no puddles. Damn Sherlock Holmes. In my head, I beat his arse to the ground, and I solve three cases that were his.

There goes my sanity. See it running away there? It's actually kind of cute. No wonder I wanted it with me. Sadly, every time I was with Sherlock, I just got angry and annoyed. I don't know what it is about him, but every time I see him I just... want to punch his smug face. Maybe it wasn't smug all the time, but it looked like it to me.

"Do you have something to say? Sherlock's voice broke through my thoughts.

"No. Not really. Not now at least."

"You might as well. Conversation will make the walk shorter."

"Let me rephrase that... I have nothing nice to say." I remarked.

"I see. Then shall I start the conversation. Which language did you start with?" he asked. I glared at him, but I was also desperate for conversation, so I gave in and told him.

"Korean. I had no choice, really. I lived there for three years."

"Did you, now?"

"My mother got a job teaching Korean children English, and my dad was a police officer there for a while."

"Really?" he said thoughtfully.

"Then we moved to London. Then my father died. He was killed in an explosion. Not just any explosion." I remarked suggestively.

"Mira and Harriet?" Sherlock seemed surprised.

"No. Not them. Their mentors and mothers. My father was on that case. So, when Mira and Harriet came out doing things exactly like their mothers, I followed the case. I found everything I could about it. I also tried to investigate, and because I knew so much, I informed the police and my flat blew up. This has happened twice. Once five years ago, and once now."

"So you have a personal connection with that case..." Observed Sherlock.

"Very. I'm glad to see them behind bars."

"So, is your older sister a detective?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"You would think that one of the children would try to be a detective in honor of their father."

"No one is really all that smart in my family, other then me and my father. I decided to be a history teacher instead. Being a detective doesn't interest me." My heart practically stopped with the lie. I hated having to say this.

"Then why do you speak twelve languages?" Sherlock inquired, and I stopped walking. Sherlock stopped and looked back at me.

Was I busted? Did he know who I was? Did he finally figure me out? I panicked. The game wasn't supposed to be this short. Or, maybe he's known since the museum. He can tell who you are and the last four people you slept with just by looking at you from across the room. Damn Sherlock Holmes! This was just getting fun, too!

"Fun." I covered, finally thinking of an answer, "Languages are my second hobby. Other then reading history books."

"It's too bad you're going to be a teacher soon. Then I can't just drop in on you when ever I want." Sherlock smirked.

"Oh, that's too bad. I'll miss having you around." I said sarcastically.

"I'll miss dropping in on days like this."

"Pardon?"

"The bad days. Are you normally like this?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you usually in a 'bad mood?'"

"No. This is just day where everything bad that has happened in my life crashed down on me and I got beaten to two jobs, and I want some sleep, and I want to rewind life to correct things, and I want to go back to work-" I stopped abruptly, "I want to start work."

"You want to go back to work?"

"Did I say that? I meant start work. Well, school comes first, of course."

"Of course. I see." Sherlock mused.

"Yes. How far away are we from the police station again?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"My god. I have to spend it talking to you." I groaned.

"What? You don't enjoy my company?"

"No, in fact, I don't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just... don't."

"Well, I find you absolutely fascinating."

"Why? What is so fascinating about me?"

"Everything, so far. I enjoy watching you and seeing how you live. It's very easy to since you live next door." he grinned, obviously enjoying this.

"Don't you have anything better to do then bug me?"

"Well, I do. We're walking towards it. So, in the time in between, I annoy you. Unintentionally, of course."

"Unintentionally. Right." I drew out the vowel and I looked at him, "Shall I annoy you in return then?"

"How would you do that?"

I stopped us and pushed him against the wall, putting a hand next to his head. I smirked, looking at his shocked face. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape. Almost a perfect replica of the face he made the other day when I corrected him. I ignored the people on the street, looking at us, standing there, not talking, the girl holding down the guy, a mischievous look in her eye.

"You play the violin, but not well, I'm afraid. I know you haven't played while I've been living there, but that's because you haven't had a lot to think about. Nothing complicated, anyway. I know that you've only been in love once, a long, long, time ago, and you haven't gotten over her. You're nervous that she could be upset. Your pulse," my index finger tapped his wrist where it had been lightly pressing, "is going a little haywire. This girl must have really hurt your feelings when she left you. Yes, she left you. She thought were a little annoying. I think you know why. You're you. She was a bit judgemental, and for you to be this close to a girl, with your lips and bodies less then six inches apart... it's like she could be watching.

"Oh, poor girl. Ah, what's her name? Polly Looper?" I did actually know her name.

"Molly... Hooper."

"Yes, Molly Hooper, poor girl. Completely in love with you, always has been from day one. You won't give her the time of day, though she would do anything for you. I don't see why you don't like her. She's cute."

"How-"

"You wouldn't admit it but you love, and I mean love Korea. And diamonds. And you are fantastic pool player. Seriously. You're awesome."

"How did you-"

"You have fantastic lines. Your body lines up beautifully. You could be a dancer." I let go at let him take it in.

"Are you sure you're not a detective?" he asked.

"Absolutely." I said as we started walking, "My dad taught me a few techniques. It's quite easy to see if you know what you're looking for."

"Really?" he asked, trying to shake off his previous experience.

"Yeah. It's simple, really. Your pulse and your eyes told me about the girl, your posture and the way you use your arms told me about pool, you eyed that Korean flag back there on that lady's car got you a bit excited for a second, and you got excited again at the jewelry shop back there as well." I grinned.

"And Molly?" Sherlock suddenly seemed a bit distracted.

"Well, to be honest-" I paused, as I started to speak, but Sherlock stopped me.

"Crystal, we have to run."

"What?"

"We have to run?"

"Why?"

"Don't look behind you. Someone has been following us for quite some time."

"I- don't understand."

"As we turn the corner, look at them. Maybe you can recognize him. Your father may have told you about someone like him as well." Sherlock said casually.

As we turned the corner, there was a suspicious looking figure all hidden in a trench coat and combat boots. Even from under a hat and sunglasses, it was obvious... he was watching us. More specifically me. I saw him smirk in the shadows. I knew what he wanted.

I reached into my purse and pulled out some gum. The one with one piece. I took the one piece, popped it in my mouth, and declared I had to throw it away. I turned, much to Sherlock's distress. I moved about half way down the block the the trash can and as I threw away the wrapper and package, the trench coat guy slipped something in my purse. "Thank you, Jordan." I whispered.

He didn't respond. He just kept his head down and moved in the other direction. Odd. It's not like him not to strike up conversation. Try to make it casual...

Jordan, my right hand man, walked away. Usually, I work solo, but Jordan has connections, so he can help me often. Now-a-days, he just goes around and tell me what the police are up to. Our meetings are always secret, or as indiscreet as we can make them. With Sherlock, watching, however, I'm not sure we pulled it off. He may have picked up by now that I wasn't who I said I was.

"Who was it?" Sherlock asked once I got back to him.

"I have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Now there is something you've said which is wrong." he grinned.

"What the blazes do you mean?"

"I am obviously smarter then you, so our guesses wouldn't be fair."

"Black, two sugars, a hint of cream."

"What?"

"Marion."

"Excuse me?"

"Your coffee order and your coffee alias. And that guy was actually an underground tip off guy who just happened to be walking in the same direction as us. The way he turned his hand every time a white purse like mine passed by meant he had secret information. He was just looking for the right person."

"How did you... know that?"

"I observe, Sherlock. I knew what I was looking for, and that made it easier to pick it up. Don't underestimate me just because I'm a history teacher. I know what I'm talking about."

"Crystal Greene, who the hell are you?" he asked playfully.

"Your guess is as good as mine." I replied, winking.

At least conversation had gotten lighthearted. I was surprised to actually enjoying this now, and I was almost upset that we arrived at the police station too soon. I interrogated the Japanese man, completely in Japanese, just like Sherlock wanted. I told him that I knew he spoke English and had to talk to the police. If he didn't, I could do some horrible things. I'm not going into detail. It may scar your brain. I know it scarred him, because he started speaking in English, nearly screaming out his confession.

"What... did you tell him? Is this your first interrogation?" Sherlock asked when I left the room.

"It is my first interrogation. I just thought back to 'C.S.I.' 'Alias' and... oh what's that other show?" I calmly informed him.

"I wouldn't know."

"John would."

To be perfectly honest, this is my 167th interrogation. I keep them tallyed off in a notebook in my purse. As I rummaged for my notebook, I came across the envelope that Jordan gave me. I was a bit nervous, to be honest. What case was I missing out on this time? It was probably fun and elaborate and the police would be needing my help, but they stupidly put me on leave.

I don't need to be on sick leave. I'm not sick. I went to the doctor the other day and my concussion is gone. It was the smallest of things, so they weren't surprised it healed that fast. Now, the only thing was my back. It didn't hurt unless I laid on it. Sometimes it bled a little bit, but only a little. I was fine. They just didn't see that. Did anyone really see me?

Sherlock offered to walk me back to the bookshop, but I said that I would rather go alone. Besides, he had a case to work on. So, once I was a few blocks away and I was sure he wasn't following me. I moved to the side of the sidewalk near the wall and and I pulled the letter from my purse.

I looked it over. This wasn't usually what Jordan gave me. It was usually disguised as a business letter, but this... this wasn't. I put it back in my purse, getting a little worried.

When I was back at the bookshop, I apologized to Jacqueline probably forty times. She asked if I was dealing with a boyfriend, believe it or not, and I laughed.

"Sherlock is not my boyfriend, and I never want him to be." I scoffed.

"Oh... okay. How about tea, then?"

I still had the job. Jacqueline was just a bit confused. When I left, about an hour later, I felt like an idiot. I hated Sherlock Holmes. I hated him. I never wanted to like him.


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN: Nicolas Colt (Alexandria)**

"_You spent all day with Sherlock Holmes?" John inquired over dinner that night. _We were having dinner at a very nice Thai place a little out of our way. Near my mothers house, actually. I told John that we had to drop in on her later. She had to meet my boyfriend at some point.

"Yes." I said exasperatedly, "It was like he was following me. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he was here."

"Is your sanity gone?"

"No, not quite. It's going to take much more then that."

"What would it take."

'"Like I'm going to tell you." I laughed.

"You don't trust me?" he smirked playfully.

"Of course I trust you." I smiled.

"Did you get a job, though?" John asked.

"Yes, I did. At a cute little bookshop."

"I'll have to visit some time."

"You will. We'll have tea and read a book. A very relaxing afternoon, if you ask me."

"Indeed. What about a relaxing evening?"

"Dinner and a movie." I stated, "What about you?"

"Dinner, my girlfriend's mother, and a movie."

"What a coincidence!" I exclaimed, "We're doing that tonight."

"Perfect." John gasped jokingly, "It's like we planned it before hand." I laughed.

Our flirting was relentless. Sometimes I thought back and thought, "What the hell was I thinking?" and other times... not. Sherlock and I's flirting was a little more subtle. Not all that noticeable to even us. I noticed, but I pretended to not. John and I flirted like crazy. All the time. Sometimes I wondered if there was ever going to be any more to this relationship.

"Alex?" I heard a familiar voice, but I didn't respond. I had forgotten, foolishly, that my cousin, Nicolas, worked here. I knew the name came too easily. He's only eighteen, but he's a doll. I love him to death. He was like my little brother, and he was at my side, helping me along for a while after my dad died.

As John and I smiled at each other, I lifted my hand and played with my earring. That was my sign to Nicolas, who was standing just a few feet away, that I was Crystal Greene tonight. Nicolas moved away and talked to one of his friends who worked here as well. Alexander. Everyone called him Xander, but he had to get used to Nicolas calling him Alex. For my sake.

"Crystal?" I heard him say next, and he moved closer.

"Nicky!' I exclaimed and turned to look at the short, blond, curly haired boy standing at our table. I moved a little so I could hug him and he hugged back. John looked a bit confused, "John, this is my cousin, Nicky."

"You must be Crystal's boyfriend." Nicky stated and held his hand out to him. John took it, smiling.

"Yes, I am. I'm John Watson."

"Don't hurt her, alright?" Nicky gripped John's hand tighter.

"I won't. I promise."

"That's what they all say." Nicky's eyes narrowed.

"Even if I grow tired of her, or get angry with her, I will not break up with her." My eyes widened, and I sat back, smiling, enjoying this a bit too much.

"Why?"

"I like her far too much. Besides, she seems like the type that is we got angry with each other, she'd be the one to break it off."

"She broke up with her last boyfriend because he cheated on her. Are you going to cheat on her?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Don't pressure her into sex. She doesn't roll like that."

"I'd never do that." John insisted.

"Good." then, Nicky turned to me, "If he breaks your heart, call me. I'll do my job." he winked.

"I don't think you'll have to." I grinned, "You'd better get back to work, kid."

"Yes I do..." he looked behind him, "Alright. I love you. See you later." he hugged me one last time before getting back to work.

"Nicolas seems like a very good kid."

"Oh, he is. Straight A's in school, and has six schools from all around begging him to go there."

"You two seem close."

"He's like my brother. I don't have a brother, and when dad died, he stepped in and he's loved me like a sister since then. We talk every Saturday night, with out fail."

"It's good that you have a sibling you're close to. I didn't."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

"Harry and I have never gotten along, and I doubt we ever will. She's a heavy drinker."

"That's horrible."

"It's fine. What about your sister? Are you close to her?"

"Maria and I... we got along well but my boyfriend cheated on my with her. I haven't talked with her since I was in the hospital., and even then we didn't talk too much."

"That... is not a good role model right there."

"That's what I said." I sighed, "I know I have to forgive her, but I'm just not ready."

"You don't have to forgive her, you kn-"

"You know, I don't want to talk about this."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Uh..." I thought for a minute, "What are you and Sherlock up to lately?"

"Nothing much, really. A few cases which he solves upon reading what they've given us. Nothing major."

"Nothing major? That's too bad. I hope something come up soon." I said, trying to sound as sorry as I could.

Something deep inside was happy that there was nothing. That meant I wasn't missing anything. If I missed something, I think I would be very upset, but I'm not worrying about that now. I was just being a little selfish inside. There were no cases. That was... good, I guess.

Even while we were heading to my mom's, It was hard to get the fact that there were no cases to work on. It must be so boring. Sherlock finished his today, which means he has to sit around for even longer to find one.

"Where are you two going?" I heard his voice and stopped. I turned around and glared at him.

"Are you serious?" I exclaimed, surprising John, "Is it your goal or something to drive me crazy today? It's worked, so you can go. I'm done with you today."

"Of course you aren't. It's only just the beginning."

"I have a question, John." I turned around, took John's arm, and started walking. Sherlock followed.

"What is your question?"

"Why is Sherlock so intent on stalking his neighbor. He hasn't left me alone all day."

"Because it's fun and I am bored." Sherlock chimed in, "Now it's the only way I can entertain myself while there's nothing to do."

"I guess we're all going to meet my mother." I commented.

"That's how it works."

"You must be John." my mother hugged my boyfriend as we stepped into her flat. She ignored the fact that Sherlock existed for a good six and a half minutes while she fawned over John, complimenting him on everything. My mother obviously liked him. I took that as a good sign.

"And who is this?" she asked me, finally acknowledging Sherlock's existence.

"Sherlock Holmes." he introduced himself.

"A friend of mine. He insisted on tagging along." John said.

"Oh. Nice to meet you." Mom and Sherlock shook hands only briefly, and I could tell Mom didn't like him very much. I took that as a good sign.

"So, Mom, how have you been?" I asked, taking my mothers arm and leading us into her living room.

"I've been good. It's very slow around here."

"You should get out more." I said in a well-meaning way, "How is Maria?"

"Maria is... I can't say. She's been upset lately."

"Well, I think I'll leave her that way before I talk to her again."

"Why?"

"Well, she went behind my back and..." I trailed off, looking at John who sat in the armchair across from the couch my mother and I were sitting on, "I don't want to talk about this now."

"So," my mother turned on John suddenly, "What do you do for a living?"

"I help a consulting detective work on his cases."

"Oh. Who would the consulting detective be?"

"Sherlock." John and I chorused.

"Sherlock and I live in the flat next to Crystal." John continued.

"Oh, really? Is that how you met?"

"No, actually." John said, smiling at me.

"Do you remember when I worked at that museum?" I asked.

"Of course." Mom said.

"Well, Sherlock and John were working on a case related to the museum, and they asked for my help. Since I know a lot of languages, Sherlock asked for my help. John and I talked a little and we hit it off, really." I smiled in his direction, then at Sherlock. He read my sarcastic gaze. I left out the part where I left him speechless. "Then," I continued, "I got the flat next to theirs, not knowing they lived there. One think led to another and we started going out."

"That's pretty much it." John said, our eyes met. It was obvious we wanted to keep Sherlock out of our relationship as much as we possibly could, even though he technically was the one who brought us together.

"Oh, how cute." My mother cried.

"Mom." I glared at her.

"I need to get a picture of you two together," she smiled at John, "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not." John said.

Mom got up and left the room to get her camera and John and I finally noticed the bored look on Sherlock's face. He was leaning back, his eyes wandering the room. John and I sighed simultaneously. "You didn't have to come, Sherlock." John states, "We were doing just fine on our own."

"I was bored." Sherlock sighed.

"Look at where your boredom has got you." I said, smirking.

"I'm bored."

"You could photo-bomb us, but I doubt that it would be fun for long."

"Oh, please, I'm not that desperate."

"You could just leave." I stated, "I would like time with just my boyfriend and mother."

For some reason, it was very satisfying to call John my boyfriend. As I looked at him now, very happy, I started to dread how I would break to him that I was actually Detective Alex. How long could I keep this up? I liked John. I liked him a lot. I couldn't bear hurting him, but I had no choice. When I told the two consulting detectives who I was, John was never going to forgive me.

"What if I don't want to go."

"I can make you go. Do you remember who I'm friends with?" I glared at Sherlock.

"I'm going to stay." Sherlock gave me a pointed look as my mom came back in the room.

I stood up and moved to sit on the arm of John's chair. I sat on the arm, but John pulled me backwards, and I ended up sitting in his lap. When I look at my pictures from when I was twenty five, I'm going to think about how I probably slept around a bit. Well, on the other hand, I was laughing, and so was John. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked at my mother, ready for the picture. I think she took five, actually.

"Oh, you two are so cute." Mom gushed, "I got twenty seven pictures in about thirty five seconds." She squealed and switched the mode of her camera to look at them.

I looked over at Sherlock and stuck out my tongue before turning back to John. John and I grinned at each other and then I whispered something in his ear. John gave me a questioning look.

"Look," I whispered, "It's at least fun for us and he'll leave promptly afterward."

"I still feel a bit bad." John rasped.

"He'll leave us be so we can widen the topics of conversation."

"Good point."

"And mom will be less uncomfortable." I gestured towards Mom who kept looking nervously at Sherlock.

"Alright. It could be worse."

I stood up and moved to sit next to my mother. Then, I got an "idea." I turned to Sherlock. "Would you come help me get some wine, Sherlock?"

He seemed shocked that I would ask him and not my boyfriend. "Why me?"

"I just need your help, come on."

So, we went into the kitchen and I pointed to the shelf with wine on it. I wanted those two bottles at the very top. Sherlock looked at me like I was insane and I just shrugged. So, he reached up, aiming his hands at the wine. Slowly, as he fumbled around, I reached slowly, oh so slowly into his coat pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. I grinned as I slipped it into my inside jacket pocket.

"Sherlock, you know what," I took two bottles off the bottom shelf, "This is just fine."

Sherlock glared at me as I ventured into the other room. I looked back at him and stuck out my tongue teasingly. He followed me back into the living room. I handed the wine to mom, then went to sit on John again. Then, as according to plan, he kissed me. I heard my mother gasp as John's arms wrapped all the way around my waist. He reached into the inside pocket of my jacket at got a hold of Sherlock's phone. I grinned against his lips, and a moment later, we pulled apart, laughing. John slipped Sherlock's phone into his pocket.

Then, John announced his need to use the bathroom and I showed him the way. When we were near the door, John kissed me once more. Then, we changed our names under his contacts to "Unknown".

"How do we slip it back in his pocket?" John asked.

"He dropped it in the kitchen." I said, taking the phone from him, "And I'm going to be the epic boss, alright?"

"Go for it."

When I came back into the living room, I was holding four wine glasses, Sherlock's phone and I came from the kitchen. I set the glasses down on the coffee table in the middle of the room and handed the phone to Sherlock.

"You dropped it in the kitchen. I saw it next to the wine rack." I explained.

"Oh, thank you." he looked up at me curiously. Then, John started it. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

With a straight face, I sat next to my mother, took a sip of wine, and I texted Sherlock Holmes. My phone was in my pocket and so was my hand. "Hello, Sherlock. I assume my associate prepared you for me."

"Of course." he replied.

"You will be given a series of tests that you must finish before tomorrow is finished. Otherwise, someone you care for will die."

"Give me the first test." Sherlock texted. I looked up at him. He looked tense. My mother looked at us, one to another. John came back in the room and sat next to me.

"Here you must go where the next hint is hidden... with out John: What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?"

John looked impressed as he read the text I co-sent him. Luckily, Sherlock wouldn't see that John was in on it, too. Then, Sherlock stood abruptly.

"I'm afraid I have to go. Duty calls." he said, and he let himself out.

"More for us, then." I took his wine and poured half of it in mine, and half of it in John's.

"_Goodnight." I said, grinning as I stood outside the flats with John_. We had a pleasant night at my mothers house. She really liked him, and as we left, she whispered in my ear, "He's a keeper. Don't frighten him away." I had no intention to frighten him away. I liked him too much.

"Goodnight." John said.

He kissed me. It only took about five seconds for him to get a bit excited and wrap his arms around my waist, his eyes shut. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let myself get lost in the kiss, closing my eyes and letting the sensation overwhelm me.

Suddenly, an ugly presence came into existence. My eyes shot open and I pulled away. John looked shocked. I looked behind me, and a shadow vanished into the alley across the street. It took everything in my power not to chase after the ninja-stalker vanishing into the shadows. Then, Sherlock stepped into the light.

"I'd better go. I have work tomorrow." I said, stepping away from John.

"Of course. You don't want to be late."John smiled, almost knowingly.

We kissed one last time before I moved towards my flat. I looked behind me at Sherlock and sneered in his direction. God, he was annoying. Yet, he was fun. How is that possible? I don't feel like thinking about that. I wanted to get ready for bed.

I ran upstairs to my bedroom and tossed my purse and coat on the chair next to the door. I heard paper crumbling. Oh, yeah... Jordan's letter. I moved back over to the door and lifted the envelope and turned it over. It was sealed with... wax. He never seals it with wax. Usually a _My Little Pony _sticker or something equally goofy.

Oh... I didn't even see his face. He didn't looked at me, lift his head, or speak.

_It wasn't Jordon._

So, if it wasn't Jordon, who was it? I slipped my finger under the flap and pushed the envelope open. I pulled out a piece of trifolded paper, unfolded it, and once I read it, my mouth fell open.

"_Dear Alexandria Colt,_

_I believe by now you will have discovered that it was not your usual messenger who delivered this to you, but one of our own. You can deduce who on your own._

_There are thirteen of us in the __미 녀__. Or there was. Three of us left, unfortunately. They must die. They will all die, of course, but you don't need to know about this yet._

_Do either of the consulting detectives know who you really are? They will soon, I assure you. You'll have no choice but to tell the Great Sherlock Holmes and your boyfriend who you are._

_Yes, Alexandria, the __미녀 __are back and we know who you are, where you are, and how to get you right where it matters. First, we have taken Jordon. Who knows who will be next._

_This is payback, Detective. We have been watching you for a very long time and now we know what to do. Keep your friends close._

_We know who you love. Who you hate. Everything. We will use this against you hand you have no way of knowing who will vanish next, and which one of us is doing it. We're all in on it, but we are sworn to secrecy._

_You will figure out which one of us is the killer, and the kidnapper. If you take too long figuring it out, people will die. If you bring in the police, John will be the first to die. Kidnapped or not._

_Good luck, Detective. You'll need it._

_익명__~"_


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight: Seo Hwa Eun**

_I paced aimlessly in my bedroom, the letter laid out on my bed._ I kept stopping in front of it, reading it, then pacing even more. I swear that I was going to wear a hole in the floor, but in a situation like this, a hole in the floor is a least of my problems.

Every once in a while, I would reach for my phone wanting to call Lestrade, but I know I couldn't. Maybe... I could not call the police station. I could call his personal phone. Would they count that as contacting the police? Could they listen into my calls?

I didn't know what to do. John could die with a single wrong move. Could I casually run into Lestrade on his way to to work? No... They were in the alley across the street. They know where I live. There is nothing I can do. Lestrade would just tell me that there was nothing I could do.

I could be with John at every moment and call the police with him locked in the bathroom with no window... I don't want to risk it. In case I look in the opposite direction for just a second. Besides, they have an assassin who could kill him on her day off. Of course... maybe he could escape it. He works with a very smart, powerful consulting detective. Maybe he could avoid it for a while.

A while wouldn't mean he was going to stay alive. A while would just postpone the inevitable. I held my head in my hands and fell back onto my bed. I stared at my ceiling, my eyes wandering and not really landing on a spot. I stood up and kept pacing. Finally, I called John.

"Crystal?" he asked, sounding tired, "It's two in the morning."

"I-I know." I breathed a shaky breath, "I have a very important question."

"What is it?"

"This may seem weird but... would you come over?"

"What?"

"Would you come over tonight? Like... now?"

"Why?"

"I... I'm scared. I don't know why. I just am. I... guess I must have had a bad dream I can't remember. I'm just scared."

"Don't you think it's too soon? It's only been a week."

"No... No. No!" I exclaimed, "Just... I want to be with somebody."

"Well, alright. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

I hung up and ran around my apartment turning the lights off and changing into my PJ's along the way. I kept my bedside table light on and the living room light on. I sat on my couch and waited. I was nervous if he just went outside for a few minutes. Blimey, I was going crazy and it had only been a few minutes. Damn, I thought they wouldn't be back in my lifetime. Now, they were back and ready to terrorize me.

Then, he knocked on my door and in about thirty seconds I was pulling him inside and into my arms. I breathed in the old-book smell of him. I'd only been dating John for about a week and I liked him. A lot. I intended not to let him get hurt by my job.

In another few minutes we were laying in bed, me laying partially over him, my arm around his torso pulling us closer together. His arm wrapped around me, his hand on my back. The lights were off, and I was staring out into nothingness. I couldn't tell if John was asleep or not, but I sure as hell wasn't.

"I'm sorry if this is awkward." I whispered.

"Mmff." he grunted.

"Okay then."

I laid there in bed and watched the alarm clock on the bedside table for hours. I kid you not, hours. I must have counted to sixty a million times. Of course, it's impossible to do in one night, but still. When it was four fifteen in the morning, I knew John was asleep. So, I slipped out of bed and moved to my closet. I slipped off my pajama's and into my spring-green work suit, with the one button on the blazer, the tight pencil skirt, the white under-shirt, the matching green handbag and five-inch peep-toe heels.

I gathered my wallet, keys, and cell phone and stuck them all in my purse. I brushed my hair and put it up in a business bun that could look better, but it's pretty good for just throwing it up.

Before I slipped out the door, I wrote a note to John. "_Went for a walk to clear my head. Can't sleep. Don't be alarmed."_

God knows he's going to come looking for me.

I lightly kissed his cheek before leaving my apartment. I walked down the street, heading for where I know they'll meet me. I knew I had to take the subway. It would take about an hour to get there. Then again, maybe an hour in the cold air, heading towards what could possibly be my death wouldn't be so bad.

Well, maybe not my death, but the beginning of the end of the adventure leading up to my death. That is always a possibility.

As I walked forward, I thought about everything that could have happened. John and I could really be going places. I could have beat Sherlock Holmes at a case. Nicky just got a girlfriend. I haven't visited Dad's grave in a few weeks now. Maria and I would always be on bad terms. Mom... Mom needed me. I'm going to miss all of this. I decided to take the scenic route to my destination, just to see London.

I passed a few people on the street and we gave each other a friendly smile. A few taxi's passed by, cutting through my haze of thought. At least I saw Nicky and Mom today. Maybe I should call Maria... No, it's almost five in the morning.

To think about it, what was I doing awake at this hour, all dressed up (kind of), heading to my death? Right. I can't sleep. It would just be stupid to postpone to inevitable. My death. I knew I was going to die, if not tonight, then later this month. I could see my breath as I walked under a streetlight. It was a little cold, I suppose, but I didn't really feel it.

Then, I stopped, looked both ways, and dashed across the street into the park. I walked around for a while, searching for the bench where I usually go to meet a 미녀 operative. I was near the lake when I finally found it. I sat down, watching the sleeping park and not looking at the other side of the bench where the other woman was to sit and explain things more clearly. Messages travel quickly and efficiently in their little world.

"안녕하세요, 미녀 요원." I said in Korean once I sensed another person sitting in the shadows.

"안녕하세요, 알렉산드 리아. 당신이 한국어 여전히 좋은 참조하십시오." she replied in the same language, then repeated in English, "I see your Korean is still good."

"Of course. I practice."

"Do you practice them all?"

"Mindig." I said in Hungarian, "All the time. I stay fresh."

"Good. You will only need Korean, however."

"What do you have for me? Anything to go on?"

"This," there was the sound of paper sliding across wood, "is a list of all of us. Where we live, where we work, our contact numbers. We're giving you this information carefully. You may also have to find who does what in our group. Three are going to die. You will no be informed of where, how, or why. And... we will not hesitate to kill those we have in our possession because of you."

"Under what specific circumstances would you kill someone and how would I know who it was?" I asked, reaching behind me to take the envelope.

"If you inform the police at all, then someone will die. They will get involved, I don't doubt that, but keep it quiet. Don't tell them, or anyone beforehand. We will let you know when we kill someone." I could practically hear her sinister smile.

"Won't I know you by your voice?" I asked.

"Of course not. This isn't my voice." My eyes widened, "Consider this a warning."

"How-" Somehow, as I asked the question, I knew I wouldn't get an answer. When I looked, there wasn't a woman sitting there.

Sitting there instead was a very scared looking Jordan. My associate. His eyes were wide as he held up a microphone and had a speaker hanging around his neck. I gasped, putting a hand over my mouth. Had he been there the whole time?

"Jordan." I whispered, and he shook his head and he looked up. There was a red laser being pointed at his head. No...

"He is not my voice. Just my messenger. I was there a mere sixty seconds to hand you the envelope." said the speaker. I stood and looked around me frantically, "Don't bother. I'm long gone by now. Now... as for your warning..."

There was a sharp sound that cut through the air like a knife, and when I turned around, Jordan was slumped over, blood slowly trickling from a red bullet hole in his head. My eyes were wide, my heart was racing. It got a bit lighter as the sun began to rise. The first death... was my friend. My good friend. No... this couldn't be happening. I knelt next to him and felt his pulse in the hope that he was faking, but to my distress... he wasn't.

When I checked my watch, it was just past five thirty. Now, I really couldn't sleep. That wine at my mothers should have helped me, but it didn't. I should have been asleep with John next to me, safe and sound. At least for the time being. I stood up and began pacing. Now fatigue was settling in and now I was tired, but I knew I was never going to get to sleep. I had to wait two hours to get coffee.

For the first time in a long time, I was scared. Really scared. This... this threat was indescribable. I'd dealt with them before, but never at this scale and they never showed me their face. Or let me hear them speak. They just kind of... left, and now they're back. They wanted something with Dad because he had some kind of deal with them and now they're coming for me. They want to mess with my head and make me crazy. Well, they've succeeded. I am going crazy and there's nothing I can do.

~!~!~!~!~!~

"_Are you okay?" Jacqueline asked, "You look like death."_

I decided to go to work early that day. Besides, I couldn't sleep and I was tired of waiting for the coffee shop to open. Besides, Jacqueline said that Hwa Eun brought coffee each day. Jacqueline called her and told her about me and my order. I just about kissed her. Coffee might calm me down, and if not, I'll wait until ten to make myself some tea.

"Yes, I'm okay. Well, I didn't sleep at all last night. Something came up, and I am going crazy." I slumped into a chair.

"Will you be able to work today?"

"Of course. I just need some coffee. And I'll take a nap or something during my lunch break."

"If you insist."

Jacqueline looked worried, but I did my best to not look exhausted. I waited desperately for Hwa Eun. I need my coffee or I will die. I will die in multiple ways, no less. I didn't even know this girl, Hwa Eun, and yet I was waiting for her like she was God, coming to give me advice that will change my life. When I was informed that she doesn't usually come in until ten... I think I died just a little bit inside.

When it was about nine, John called me. He was flipping out and I thought he was possibly hyperventilating. It's true, I didn't go home first, but I couldn't help it. Temporarily, my flat had vacated my mind and I decided not to go home and change into something a bit more comfortable. I don't know, jeans and a t shirt. Something less business-like. I at least took off the jacket just to be in a tank top.

"John, I'm okay. I couldn't sleep and I went for a walk then went to work."

"Are you in pajamas?"

"No. I got dressed." Jacqueline looked at me, an eyebrow raised.

"Good." John breathed.

"I'll call you after work, alright?"

"No problem."

I hung up and looked up and looked at her, looking at me with a curious half smile on her face. I shrugged. Just as I stood to put my phone with my purse, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen walked into the shop holding one of those cardboard carriers with three cups of coffee. I'm a woman, and I am perfectly straight. I just appreciate a woman's beauty. She was Korean, as far as I could tell with red-black hair that looked like silk and deep, dark, brown eyes. As I looked closer... interesting. It seems no one knows yet...

"Ah, Hwa Eun." Jacqueline said, standing, "Good morning. You're early."

"Good morning to you as well." Hwa Eun smiled.

"Hwa Eun, this is Crystal, our new employee."

"Ah, yes. It's good to meet you." Hwa Eun said as I eyed the coffee hopefully.

"You as well." I said, then I finally looked at her, "I am so sorry if I seem a bit... off today. I didn't sleep last night."

"Oh, it's alright." Hwa Eun laughed, her eyes lighting up. She pulled a cup from the holder, "We all have those nights."

"감사합니다. Thank you." I took the coffee, trying not to seem too eager. I took a few cautious sips before I took a rather large gulp. For a moment, I let the warm drink spread warmth in my entire body. I sighed in relief.

"참 잘 오셨습니다. You're welcome." Hwa Eun replied.

"Ah, Crystal." Jacqueline turned to me, "Could you do some work upstairs in the bookshop. It's a bit... unorganized, and you seem like a very organized person, so could you maybe do something about that?"

"Of course." I said, "I'll do that it just a moment." I took another drink.

"No problem. Do it on your own time. If you haven't had breakfast, there's a muffin rack under the desk."

"Why is the muffin rack under the desk?"

"We put it there when we close." Jacqueline explained.

So, heading upstairs with two blueberry muffins, a cup of coffee, and my purse, I couldn't tell for the life of me if today was going to be a long day. I finally found the counter upstairs and started by cleaning all of the boxes of books off of it. I would deal with those as soon as I got this straightened up. I started on the counter by fixing the cash register. It wasn't broken as it was simply unused and unplugged.

Then, I dusted. Man, I opened all of the windows I could up there, turned on the fan, and used the bandanna I tied to my purse handle as a make-shift dust mask. Hey, you never know when you'll need one, right? Anyway, in almost no time at all (four hours) I'd dusted the check out counter, and most of the first and second bookshelves. To finish all five, one against each wall and three in the middle, both sides, and the books would take work, but some people like their books dusty.

Then, I decided to take a break. You'd be surprised how tiring it is to keep a book shop. With a coffee shop under it, no less. And there are other employees here. I suppose I'll mostly dust today, then go through all of the books where the author's last name starts with "A". That is going to be fun...

As I started dusting again, Hwa Eun came upstairs. She looked around for a moment before she noticed the difference. She smiled and moved towards me a little bit.

"Jacqueline is about to run off to get lunch. Do you have a preference?"

"Not Mexican." I said, "Or Scottish."

"Okay..." Hwa Eun trailed off.

"I'm fine with anything." I assured her, "Just let me know what you choose. I just... don't know why I don't like Mexican or Scottish."

"I understand, just the thought makes me sick." Hwa Eun said quietly, and she _did _look sick. What was up with that? Hm...

"How about Italian?" Jacqueline called up. Hwa Eun looked at me and I nodded.

"Chicken fettuccine Alfredo." I called.

"Lasagna for me, thank you." Hwa Eun said.

"No problem. Any wine?" Jacqueline asked, "Wait... we're working. Darn it." Hwa Eun and I laughed.

So, a moment later, Jacqueline left and Hwa Eun went downstairs. I guess we could talk more over lunch or something. Then, as I started dusting again, the door of the shop opened and I heard Hwa Eun greet a costumer. A moment later, I heard the stairs creak as he climbed the stairs.

Yes, a man. He was about 6'1"-6'3"-ish... large feet. Size... nine and a half, I believe. Well built, but not muscular. A bit scrawny, but probably looks hot in a suit. I mean, let's face it... Who doesn't? Something in his walk said that he was confidant and... there's a faint smell of my boyfriend's cologne.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, turning to look my annoying neighbor in the face, "I honestly don't understand."

"I'm just trying to figure out who you are." he said, and lifted a small book to show me, "In here you have dates several days apart with different names under them. Ooh, Clarissa Oden. That's a good name."

"Ah, I think of girls names all the time that I think are pretty. I just add last names to make it more... cozy. I do plan on having children one day, you know." I stepped forward and took the book from him. "Where did you get this, anyway?"

"You dropped it on you mothers front steps." Sherlock stated.

"Alright then." I stuck the book in my purse, and I eyes the envelope the woman had given to me a few hours ago, and my heart rate went up. "Thank you. You can go now, right?"

"I could, but your workplace is so cozy, I might just stick around." he smiled.

"Do you really have _nothing_ better to do?"

"No, not really."

"Well, then, do you want tea or something?" I asked, being a good host for business-sake.

"Hwa Eun is making some for me. Beautiful girl."

"I don't think you've ever called a woman beautiful in your entire life."

"Well, she is. It's just a universal fact."

"Yes, yes it is." I sighed. I couldn't argue with that one.

"Crystal, I have a question for you." Sherlock said moving to stand next to me over by the counter.

"Yes?"

"Why can't I read anything about you? I have no idea who you are, and it's starting to get on my nerves." Sherlock said.

"I don't know." _Lie_. "I suppose I'm just one of those common people which are just harder then normal." _Lie_. "I'm sorry you can't divulge in my personal life." _Lie. _"When, in fact, you are my personal life." _The sad, sad truth._

"It is quite annoying. I don't understand how you could tell not-quite-everything about me." Sherlock sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, "I've been racking my brain and the only way that it could actually work is if you were a detective like me, but your skills aren't as sharp."

I burst out laughing. I couldn't help myself. This guy was a riot. He actually thought that he could be smarter then me. It's simply ridiculous. I had been doing pretty well these past few days of keeping it together around these guys, especially Sherlock that I wasn't as smart as him, though I was smart. This time, I cracked. I doubled over from laughing, and my cheeks were wet from crying so hard.

"What?" Sherlock asked, genuinely curious, and I sunk down a little father, laughing even harder.

This was my most immature moment in front of Sherlock I think I'll ever have. I can't help it, though. If I could stop laughing right now, I would, I swear, but I can't hold it in any longer.

Finally, after a few minutes, I calmed down and stood up straight. I wiped the tears off of my cheeks and took in a deep breath. Sherlock looked at me like I was crazy. Hwa Eun raced upstairs.

"Are you alright?" she asked, a light tone in her voice, "Do you need some help breathing?"

"No. I'm okay." I breathed, my stupid grin not leaving my face.

"What's so funny?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing." I snickered, "Nothing."

"No, really." Sherlock turned to me and Hwa Eun smiled and went downstairs.

"I know more about you then you know about me." I said, "I would say I'm pretty smart. The fact that you don't know which number the planet Jupiter is around the sun or twelve times twenty four is or the fact that you don't even know that Oxygen is the gas that keeps us alive. I also knew about the girl, the violin, pool, diamonds, and Korea. I have a feeling I'm a bit smarter then you."

"This book was owned by a professional golfer." Sherlock picked up a book from the shelf.

"These three," I hurried from shelf to shelf, picking off three books, "were all owned by the same person. An airline pilot's wife."

"This author is writing under a pen name." he picked off another book.

"Everyone think that you and John are gay."

"You speak Greek."

"You speak English, German, and only a little bit of Korean."

"You don't like mice."

"You absolutely hate the color red. Which is probably why the wall got such a beating."

"You don't like math."

"You like cats." I stated.

"Fish give you the creeps."

"That's the first time you've ever said the word 'creeps.'"

"Even though you're wearing it, you could kill the color green if you could."

"You absolutely despise peach, and anything related to it. The color, the video game character, the fruit itself, any candy whether naturally flavored or artificially flavored."

"You were once blond, but your hair darkened with age."

"Dan Brown is your favorite author."

"You desperately want to meet Detective Alex Colt."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I'm my fathers daughter." I stated turning to a bookshelf and starting the dusting of the shelves and books.

"How did you know about Alex Colt?"

"I read some of his work. Who doesn't want to meet him?"

"You haven't met him either?"

"Nope. And we can't go looking for him. He uses a large variety of alias'."

"How do you know?"

"I know Lestrade. I think that's enough."

"He trusts you?"

"I've known Lestrade for fifteen years." I stated, "We're like this..." I crossed my fingers.

"Hm..."

"Anyway, this 'Alex Colt' is your priority right now. You have no idea who he is because you have never seen him before. I've seen him."

"You've met him?"

"No. I said I've seen him. And I've seen you. I've seen you both in the same room." I said, thinking back to the day, five years ago, when I first saw Sherlock Holmes. I believe we made eye contact for about half a second as he left in a hurry.

"Really?" Sherlock looked doubtful.

"Of course. Would I lie to you?" _Yes_.

"I suppose not, though I don't see why you would lie to me."

"Neither do I. Anyway, you know this Alex guy, but not really." I said, "Maybe take some time to actually talk to people."

"I don't have to."

"It doesn't matter. Just... put in the extra effort. I bet you don't know Lestrade's first name."

"It's Detective." Sherlock said playfully.

"No. It's not." I smirked, "I'm not telling you his name. You have to find out yourself."

"That's not fair."

"Yes, it really is."

I started on the next shelf and Sherlock quieted down. He picked through the books, but he wasn't looking at them. I was dusting near Sherlock, but I wasn't looking at him. It took a few minutes but I finally asked the question that was really on my mind.

"Where is John?" I asked.

"He said he was going out two hours ago."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"He never does. I think he was looking for you."

"Well, I'm right here. Haven't you called him yet. Or texted him. You like texting best, I see."

"Do I?" he asked.

"Yes. Your thumbs look stronger then your other fingers."

"Interesting."

"I'm back!" called Jacqueline, "Lunch!"

"Coming." I called.

So, I went downstairs leaving Sherlock's upstairs. We sat around one of the tables and we prepared our lunch. Jacqueline looked a little mortified at my terrible manners for leaving a customer unattended. It went a few minutes without being mentioned but before Jacqueline could say anything, I intervened.

"I know him. He's a... boyfriend's, slash, neighbor's roommate, slash, friend, slash, colleague."

"What?"

"He's an acquaintance." I decided.

"Why are you leaving him up there alone?"

"He's a detective, hence colleague, and he's a good guy. I know him enough to know I trust him. Besides, it's just lunch. I'll be up there in a few minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"I could take my lunch upstairs."

"It's fine." Hwa Eun stopped me and put a hand on my arm, "I was going to ask you what your relationship was with him."

"He's just my annoying neighbor. Who's best friend is my boyfriend, so I have to put up with him."

"It seemed like you two were into each other up there, and I thought he was your boyfriend."

"Yeah, not gonna happen." I laughed.

"Why not?"

"First of all, I like my boyfriend a lot. Give it a few months and it could be love. Who knows? Second of all, I hate Sherlock. There is just something about him that makes me so irritated and I want to annoy him as much as possible as if he'll leave me alone." Hwa Eun and Jacqueline exchanged glances.

"You sure you don't like him?"

"Positive. Not even one bit."

"Go ahead and believe that." Jacqueline muttered under her breath.

"Right." I laughed, "Of course. I have a boyfriend, okay? Besides... I'm not interested. At least not like that."

"Neither am I." Sherlock called from upstairs, "It will never happen. I don't do romantic relationships."

Hwa Eun, Jacqueline and I looked at each other, eyes wide. Then, I started laughing and the other girls soon joined in. Once the laughter died down, and we were giving our last giggles, Sherlock came downstairs.

"I'm afraid that you didn't have what I was looking for but you have a great selection and I will be returning." he said.

I stood up and I moved over to him. I looked him in the eye for a moment before I patted down his coat. Satisfied, I let him go. We exchanged no words as he left. I smirked and Hwa Eun and Jacqueline shrugged.

"Hwa Eun," I said, "Your name is beautiful."

"Thank you." she smiled.

"Seriously." I grinned, "What does it mean?"

"'Hwa' means 'beautiful' and 'Eun' means 'grace.' My family name, 'Seo', Is just... 'Seo', My mother and I aren't directly from Korea per se, but she wanted to keep the Korean name thing going. I even have to put my name in the family name, individual name format on job applications. And at home, with my fiance and when I go to see my mother, I'm only allowed to speak Korean."

"Have you ever been to Korea?"

"Of course. I visit there a lot. For vacation and such."

"I used to live there." I said.

"Really?"

"Only for a while when I was really little. That's why I learned Korean."

"Ah, I see. Your Korean is actually very good."

"I have a refresher lesson every other week to keep myself sharp."

"We'll have to visit Korea sometime." Hwa Eun gasped.

"We will!" I exclaimed.

"Goodness, now I'm excited for something that's not even planned."

"Me, too." I laughed.

After lunch, I was upstairs sitting behind the checkout counter, waiting for my lunch to be digested. I pulled the envelope the 미녀 operative gave me from my purse. I looked at it, and I felt it for any bugs or trip wires or any seals that, if broken, would do something horrible. Toxic gas, explosions, the works. Satisfied with the flatness of it, I carefully opened it.

Inside was the list, folded to fit in the envelope. When I unfolded the list, a separate piece of paper fell out. I set the list aside and I picked up the separate note. With a bit of caution, I read the note.

"_Alexandria,_

_I have to apologize on behalf of our computer operator. She left two women off of the list. Easy to do, seeing as they left the group. I have written them down for you._

_미녀 요원"_

I gulped hard. Five women were going to die and I couldn't stop it? I picked up the list, and I read it over quickly and then I paused. One of the names caught my eye. It was familiar in a very unpleasant way. She was marked as one of the women who were going to be killed. Any time now.

Seo Hwa Eun.


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE: Molly Cooper**

_Sherlock paced the length of his flat, listening to the music playing next door as he replayed each time he ever visited the police station_. All of the same faces... At some point, he saw the name plate "Detective Inspector Alex Colt." He didn't look at the plate long enough to get a good look at the name. Inwardly, he groaned as his mysterious neighbor replayed one of those songs.

Think... Who has he met once before? Who has he met once before who could potentially be the greatest detective in the U.K... Aside from himself of course. Who could he possibly ask who has met Alex? Not John, of course, because he hasn't met him.

Maybe Lestrade? No. He's asked him already. He would be caught dead asking Anderson... Donovan would just ignore him. Maybe shoot a snappy remark in his direction that he would promptly ignore. There was that new intern, Daniel who seemed to know everything already...

Oh, it was so painfully obvious of who he could ask. Molly. Molly would tell him what he wanted to know. That sounded like a good plan. Who was this Alex Colt, and had he met him before. With a little encouraging, she would spill everything. It was just like Molly.

Sherlock threw on his coat and scarf and he ran down the stairs and out the door and hailed a taxi. John was out, probably grocery shopping, so there was no need to worry about him. Next door, Crystal seemed to be doing fine all by herself, singing to some Nickelback song. It's not like she cared where he went. Or who he was for that matter. Or why he was on the face of the Earth.

As the tall man who lived next door left, heading for the hospital, the female neighbor looked out the window. She smiled. It was all going smoothly, but of course the complicated stuff hadn't even started yet.

Now that he really thought about it, she really didn't like him. It wasn't like him with his joking banter, she honestly hated him. She seemed to wish he didn't even exist. Maybe she was at least grateful that it was because of him that she and John met. At least.

Something about Crystal made him keep coming back for more. Every time he talked to her, he thought it was so much fun to talk to her. She was... cute. She insulted him so smoothly, it was like it was natural for her, but when he saw her with John, she didn't insult him in the least. When she did, she was obviously joking, but with him... He just couldn't get enough.

However, even though he thought he was cute, she was very annoying in way which was a bit contradictory, but she was a very contradicting girl. Every time he saw her, he wanted to annoy her, and even when they were apart, he thought of various ways to annoy her. It was all he could think about on some days. Crystal Greene... How can I possibly annoy her. What is there that would provoke her enough? Why was this so fun?

Almost too soon, he arrived at St. Bart's hospital. He breezed through the door and headed down the hall to see Molly. Today, he noticed, she was wearing a flattering green dress. She should wear that more often. Of course, she may not wear it again. It did take her five tries to choose that dress. And that lipstick. Only twice for the hair, though.

She didn't even look up as the man with the dark coat and the sexy smirk swept into the morgue. Alone. As expected. Ah, what did he want today? He would ask for something, she would deny access, he would compliment her, and she would pull a few strings and show him the gruesome murder victim. But... there hadn't been any. She was expecting that visit. She fought a smile. Stay in character, Molly, she told herself, It has to happen this way. Let's see if she was right.

"Molly, I need your help." Sherlock said.

"With what?" she looked up.

"Well, strictly speaking, it's not... work related." _Holy crap, she was right_! Molly thought.

"Oh? How so?" Molly set down the paperwork she was doing.

"It's about... a detective."

"No detectives died recently."

"No, not a dead one. An alive one."

"What do you mean?"

"Detective Alex Colt."

"Ah, I don't know much. Nothing worth mentioning, really."

"I think I know him, but I just can't remember."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Who is he?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you." Molly turned away. Sherlock went through his very slim compliment vocabulary before he found the perfect one.

"Your lipstick is the perfect shade. It makes your lips look... pretty."

"Well..." Molly turned, How did she know that he would say _that_? "He's fantastic, really. Quite inspiring. He's very attractive, if I do say so," Not really a lie... Even Molly thought she was pretty. "He's ridiculously smart... Black hair... Very black. Raven black and these eyes that you could just drown in." Molly followed instructions and gazed off, pretending to daydream, "He comes here to talk to me a lot. He's nice. I like him, at least."

"Raven black hair..." Sherlock trailed off, "What color eyes did you say?"

"Ah, a beautiful green-gold. Like... what the light looks like when the sun is shining through the leaves in the forest." Molly sighed. She couldn't believe herself. She was pretending one of her best friends was a man and she was fawning over her... him.

Sherlock searched his memory for someone with raven black hair and green-gold eyes. So, far, there was no one. Day one... no one. There was that little girl... no... she was four and she still couldn't correctly pronounce over half of the words in her vocabulary. There was that fourteen year old boy who looked like he couldn't spell his own name...

"Do you know when he comes to work?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, he's currently on sick leave. He was in a terrible explosion and Detective Inspector Lestrade insisted that he took a few weeks off to recover."

"So you know where he is?"

"No... No I don't."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I have no idea where he is."

As Sherlock swept out of the morgue, Molly couldn't help but to smile. She was right. Damn it, Alexandria was right. Earlier, about two hours before Sherlock come to see her, Alexandria came to visit.

"Top of the afternoon, Molly!" She'd said, breezing into the room and bringing a good mood with her.

"Good afternoon to you as well." Molly smiled.

"How are you?" Alexandria hugged Molly, "It's been far too long."

"It has. You need to come by more often."

"We need to talk."

"About..."

"I need you to do something for me. See, later today, Sherlock Holmes is going to visit and he's going to say 'Molly, I need your help.'"

"What?"

"_That _line specifically." Alexandria said.

Then, she did something amazing. Alexandria scripted the conversation that Molly would have with Sherlock, and dammit, she was spot on. Molly was quite impressed. If Alexandria would have been Alexander, Molly would be in love with him instead of Sherlock. Instead, Sherlock captured her heart, and she was determined to win him over.

As Sherlock left, leaving Molly to hope he was just a bit jealous, Molly's assistants brought in a body that had been found in St. James park. He had been shot in the head and he was found with a broken microphone and speaker. There was no evidence that another person had been anywhere near him until he was found at six-thirty in the morning by someone named Veronica.

Molly unziped his body bag and gasped. She recognized him. He worked with Alexandria. He kept her posted on the inside. Jordon Malakay. Behind his ear was a tattoo of a word in Korean. It was still a bit scabbed as if it was very new. Something even Molly recognized. 미녀.

Molly panicked, but didn't call Sherlock back into the room. Instead, Molly pulled out her phone and called Alexandria. Molly listened to Alex's sad voice as she explained that she was present when her colleague was killed, but was so in shock that she didn't report it. That, and Lestrade couldn't know that she knew about the 미녀.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~

Alex knew that someone was probably going to die as she spilled everything to Molly. Alex's voice was choked, but she couldn't help it.

~!~!~!~!~!~

_Sherlock swept out of the hospital_. He felt as if he was going crazy. Sherlock was beginning to doubt that is Detective Alex was even a person. If he was a person, he was probably dead. Molly didn't seem sad... besides, there was a card going around for him. And he had his own office.

His office.

Sherlock get in a taxi and got out at Scotland Yard. He into the building and he ran upstairs, taking two at a time. He ran past Lestrade's office and looked for Alex Colt's office. He saw it and dove in, not bothering to look too long at the name plate on the door. "Detective Inspector Alexander Colt" he hoped it read.

He looked over the desk for pictures, and he looked through the drawers and turned on the computer. There was nothing that would tell him who the hell this detective was. Was there even a decent lead? No, not really. No pictures, the password to his computer was obviously standard military, maybe mixed with something personal, but Sherlock couldn't guess it. That just pissed him off more.

Sherlock practically stormed out of the police station, not bothering to look for that color of eyes that Molly described. Where was he supposed to look now? There was nothing helpful at the hospital, there was nothing at his office, no one would tell him anything. What was he supposed to do?

Behind him, the green eyed, black haired person he was looking for stepped into their office to fix everything that Sherlock had disturbed, knowing he had previously been there.

If Sherlock knew this, it would only vex him more, and that was the fun that Alex loved dearly.

~!~!~!~

_Nicolas Colt hummed to himself as he wiped off tables, waiting for someone to come in the door._ It was a slow day today, so there were only two waiters working. That sexy new girl that just got the job last night, and himself. He kept meaning to ask her out, but chances are that Alex got there first. Not his cousin, but another waiter who liked to beat him to the punch for everything. It wouldn't surprise Nicky if he did.

It was nice to see Alex, his cousin, yesterday. They don't see each other as much anymore, and it was nice to see her again. Though... it was a bit weird she seemed to really like the guy she was on a date with, but she was using her fake name. She was leading two lives. It must be really hard to keep both of them up without either one knowing about each other. What about the legal paperwork? Maybe the police station took care of all of that. She was working for them, so I assume that they take care of everything. If her I.D's get mixed up, then she has her police badge.

Nicolas went on rants like that far too often. When her father died, he worried about her. He knew she was old enough, and she could take care of herself, but he couldn't help it. It had become habit. He didn't intend on breaking it now that the anniversary of his death was sneaking up upon them. Nicky was probably going to visit the grave with the family. Maria, Alexandria, and Nancy Colt would need his help. Besides, it was his uncle, too, so he wanted to go pay his respects as well.

"Hey, Nicky." said Annie, the other waitress, who was cleaning off the table next to him.

"Oh, hi, Annie." Nicky was surprised that she was even talking to him.

"Hey, I actually wanted to talk to you." she turned to him.

"Me? Why?"

"There's something I saw outside earlier that I thought you would like." she smiled, "I wanted to show you."

"Me? Are you sure you're not looking for Xander."

"Positive."

"What if it's not there?"

"It's there. I promise."

"How do you know?"

"I just checked."

"What is it?"

"Well... it's... It's hard to explain. Just come on."

Annie took Nicky's hand and pulled him through back through the kitchen and out the back into the alley. Nicky started getting a bit doubtful as she pulled them farther and farther away from the restaurant.

"_Annie_?"

"One more corner."

Around the corner, there were five or six figures in black robes, standing there looking intimidating. Nicky looked over at Annie who smiled at him like there weren't people standing there.

"Um, welcome to the Thai Palace?" Nicky asked.

And that was the last thing he remembered.

!~!~!~!~!~!


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N: I know, I know! I haven't updated in forever. In my defense, I just moved overseas to Brisbane, Australia and I haven't had internet in a month. I re-wrote this chapter three times before I finally got it, so I hope you guys like it. I know it's short, but I assure you, it will be the last short chapter in a while. I'm writing like crazy in order to keep all of you satisfied, so bear with me if it's a bit messy. And please, feedback is much appriciated. I'm actually a student writer, so I'm open to all kinds of advice. What ever you have up your sleeve. Anyway, without further ado, here is Chapter 10.)**

**Ten: Crystal Greene**

_I fell to my knees, the phone still against my ear._ Nicky was gone? Just... gone. No one had seen him since lunch yesterday. He was missing. Mom thought he was just taking a rest, but I knew better.

I should have known they would go after him. He was the second most important man in my life, and now he was gone. Just... gone. Taken from me. Nicky could die. Nicky... could... die.

That thought echoed in my head over and over. My cousin, who I care for dearly, could die. At my hands. How ever indirectly... and there is nothing I can do. Nothing. I have to investigate, look for these women. I don t understand why they would tell me who they were, where they lived, their contact information, who they were going to kill... unless there was a twist.

My phone clutched in my hands. Mum has hung up ages ago, but I was so petrified that it didn't matter anymore. What was I going to do? I was sure there was SOMETHING I could do, but there was nothing that came to mind.

It was getting late. Outside, the thick layer of clouds was darkening, indicating that night was falling. Still, I paced. Having not eaten since breakfast that morning, my hunger suddenly made me stop in the middle of my living room. I put my hand over my stomach as the low growling came from it. It was only when I sat at the island in my kitchen on a bar stool when I realized how tired my knees were. I had been pacing for hours. Then, I set my phone down and I realized that my knuckles were white from holding it so long.

I put my head down on the counter and groaned. Ah, I didn't feel like cooking. It was too much energy. Too much unnecessary energy. Then, I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Molly." I said into the phone.

"What's up?" Molly seemed confused.

"Are you still working?"

"I'm just about to get off... why?"

"Do you want to get together for dinner?"

"Why? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just don't feel like cooking. How do you feel about pizza?"

"Uh, sure."

"There's a pizza place right up the street from here if you want to meet there in say..."

"Forty five minutes?" Molly asked.

"Of course. No problem."

So, forty five minutes later, I left my flat and walked up to the pizza place. I found a table and ordered a half cheese half pepperoni for Molly and I. I got a coke and I sat there at the table in the small pizzeria panicking. What if on the way to the pizza place they got Molly. I would never forgive myself if that happened. Maybe I should have invited John along as well.

"What is it?" Molly asked, shooting in the door and sitting down across from me, making me jump, "What's wrong?"

"Nicolas is gone." I said, my fingers idly drawing on the table, "They took him."

"They took him..." Molly trailed off, "Are they going to kill him?"

"I have no idea. They might. They killed Jordon."

"Jordon was a warning, wasn't he?"

"Yes, but they could randomly decide to send another warning."

"You never know." Molly said.

"I know. That's the worst part." I sighed as I stood up to get the pizza.

"Will you be okay?"

"I just need to go stay at my mothers and keep everyone in the living room so they don't get away."

"That's not very practical. Maybe you should just look for them. Visit each woman and see what they have to say."

"It's not like they'll actually give me any information about who they actually are." I said.

"You are a detective." Molly leaned over the table, careful not to get her hair in the pizza, "You can't be thrown off because of this. You're supposed to be hot on the trail, or heading in the wrong direction, but somehow there s a hint of truth and you find the truth from that tiny little scrap. You've dealt with worse cases, Ally. You have to overpower this and get right on the trail of the kidnappers."

"You're right, Molly." I said, lifting my head from the table where it had sunk down a bit earlier, "I need to get myself together."

"Yes, Detective Colt, you do." she grinned.

"I will do just that." I said, standing up.

"You go, girl!" Molly exclaimed.

"Right after I eat." I sat back down and grabbed a second slice.

"Also a good idea." Molly laughed.

Once I was finished, having eaten half of the pizza, I bade goodbye to Molly and ran off towards my flat. I sat down on the couch with the list of numbers and names. I took a deep breath and I picked up my cell phone and I called the top number.

__~!~!~!~!~!~

_THUMP._ I woke up with a jolt, tangled in a blanket, clutching a couch cushion. I had slept on the couch the previous night, looking over the list of names for something, anything, that would give me a clue as to what in the world they could be doing. Nothing, as usual.

My phone was vibrating in my back jeans pocket, making my butt feel really weird. Seriously. It's a weird feeling. Rubbing the sleep out of me eyes, and propping myself up on one elbow, I reached behind me and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I checked the caller I.D. God, what the hell? It s seven in the morning.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked, hearing the grogginess in my voice.

"Jeez, are you drunk or something?"

"No." I said, straightening my voice, "I'm just waking up. My alarm doesn't even go off for another forty five minutes."

"So only forty five minutes of lost sleep."

"I didn't get to sleep until four." I said pointedly, standing up to put the couch back together.

"Okay, a lot of sleep lost. Anyway, that conversation has automatically deleted from my hard drive."

"What the hell do you want?" I asked, wrestling the couch cushion into it's spot.

"Ah. I never answered that question, did I."

"No. You didn't. Will you now? Please?"

"I wanted to know if you would like some coffee."

"Why?" I asked, my nose crinkling in confusion, "We don't even like each other. Why would you ask me if I wanted coffee?" I stood up straight and put a hand on my hip, giving up on the cushion.

"I never said I didn't like you." he said.

"Well, you really don't have to."

"Oh, come on. It's just coffee."

"I have a boyfriend. And I don't like you." I said pointedly, suddenly seeing my reflection in the mirror by my bedroom door. My eyes widened and I hurried over to it. Damn. My hair is a freaking rats nest.

"Oooh, that hurts, Crystal." He said, not sounding hurt at all.

"It should." I said as I tamed my hair with one hand.

"Well, I'm afraid the coffee isn't optional, neighbor."

"Where the hell is John?" I asked, balancing my phone between my face and my shoulder so I could work on my hair better.

"Out. He went to get some groceries or something, so I went out to get coffee and I am attempting to be a good neighbor."

"Really." I scoffed, moving into the bathroom and putting my phone on speakerphone so I could fix the monster that was my face.

"Yes, really."

"Why are you being good to me? You must be bored. "I said, running a brush through my hair, loving the feeling of various knots being untangled.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Okay, the neighbor thing I get," I admitted throwing my hair in a ponytail and starting to fix my eyes so I didn't look like a raccoon, "But your flatmate's girlfriend I don't get."

"Ah, neither do I, but then again, I don't have anything to do."

"Really? No cases? No cases at all?"

"No, but for the first time ever, I don't care. I am not bored out of my mind."

"Why?"

"I have someone to play with."

"You sound like a ten year old." I said, very pleased with how easily this eyeshadow was coming off.

"We all have a ten year old inside us. So, coffee?"

"You re right outside, aren't you?" I said, applying lip gloss.

"You know it."

"Latte?"

'Medium." He assured me.

"Five minutes." I said.

"Fine."

I hung up first, not waiting for him to say anything else.

Six and a half satisfying minutes later, Sherlock and I sat in his living room sipping coffee and not talking at all. I'd been in his apartment before, only once to borrow a book from John, and honestly, it hasn't changed at all. The air may seem as if it was awkward from the outside, but on the inside, it couldn't be less awkward. In fact, I was so close to bursting out laughing.

I couldn't stop checking my phone for the time. I had a lunch appointment at noon with a woman who was in the Mi-Nyo. I was looking forward to this meeting, believe it or not. This woman could potentially kill me without there being any evidence, and I was looking forward to meeting her for lunch. My mind can be a mysterious place sometimes. Even I don t know if I m all there.

I know for a fact that Sherlock isn't "_there_", and he could never be "_there_". He was so scatterbrained and ridiculous. Now that I really thought about it, it's never been clear where there really is. It could be the bathtub, the kitchen sink, seat 23 row 30 at the Sydney Opera House, a chair in a coffee shop in China, or possibly even the Eiffel Tower. It would be a very interesting experience to go looking for there but I doubt I would ever really find it.

"The weather is nice today." I commented offhandedly.

"Making pointless comments about the weather now are we." Sherlock stated.

"Conversation starter, I guess." I said.

"Well, if you think rain is good weather, then yes, it is nice today."

"Of course. I love rain. There's a reason I haven't left London."

"Really now. I thought you were staying in London for a completely different reason." Sherlock eyed me across the room and over his coffee cup as he sipped.

"Please." I scoffed, taking a drink of coffee," I could get the job I want anywhere. I mean, have you seen the school systems? Besides, I like it here."

"Do you now." Sherlock mused.

"Of course. It would take something _huge_ to get me to leave."

"Like?"

"I don't know. An exceptionally good job... my mother dying, a better school then the one I go to now..." I trailed off, unable to think of anything else.

"Coffee with Sherlock Holmes?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye.

"Yes," I laughed, "Coffee with Sherlock Holmes would compel me to leave London."

"Hey, this isn't too bad, is it? Coffee, a few laughs..." he looked me in the eye. His gaze was surprisingly intense, so I forced myself to look away.

"It could be worse."

"How so?"

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"Not especially, no, though it would be nice if you would."

"Well, I'm not, so forget it." I leaned back into the chair, the Union Jack pillow supporting my back, holding my coffee with both hands and taking a sip.

"How could it be better?" Sherlock asked casually.

"John could be here. I could have a job." I sighed.

"How much do you like him?"

"A lot-" I sat up suddenly, looking at him, nearly laughing, "Are you hitting on me?"

"What?"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"No". Sherlock suddenly looked disgusted, "Of course not. I don't bother myself with those sorts of relationships." he waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss all the romance in the world.

"Fine. Good to know." I relaxed back again, "To answer your question, I like John a lot. One day, I think it could even be love."

"Really? You really believe that?"

"Of course. I'm having coffee with his flatmate and we go out all the time. I never get tired of being with him. I think this is going to last."

"You re a very secretive girlfriend, though. Sneaking out, having coffee with his flatmate, turning up the same time as Detective Alex..." Sherlock trailed off.

"Isn't Detective Alex a guy?" I asked, sipping my coffee, perfectly calm. This was it for Crystal Greene.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. And the search continues." Sherlock shook his head slightly, looking outside at the rain.

"Do you want to go outside?" I asked, my eyes shining.

"What? And risk getting a cold? Of course not." he scoffed as if I was below him for wanting to go outside. I dismissed that.

"Oh, come on. It ll be fun." I leaned forward, setting my coffee down on the table next to me.

"Of course not. It's silly. Why would I do such a thing?"

"Suit yourself." I said, standing up and moving towards the door, "I'm going to go outside."

**(A/N: It's short, I know. Bear with me. I'm working on it.)**


	11. Chapter 11

**(A/N: Here we are. I know the suspense is killing you. This chapter may not be as good as I'd like, but then again, I've been distracted. New country and all. Now that I'm getting used to it, I've been writing better, I think. Chapter twelve should be up soon. And please, feedback is always appriciated. [And questions of course. I love questions. They make my think.]**

**Anyway, enjoy!)**

**Eleven: Baek Ae Chung**

_The rain felt fantastic_. Even just stepping out into the street. Now and again, When it rained I would run up to Regents park to play in it most of the time. Sometimes I didn't but more or less, I play in it when ever I get a chance.

I ran up to the park and to a favorite pavilion next to a field, tossed my jacket on the bench, and ran out into the field. I ran through the rain, feeling it fall on my face. It was cold as it was mid-September, but it felt good all the same. I didn't feel stupid, a grown woman running through the rain on a Saturday morning. I did at first, but I got over it easily. As long as I was having fun, I didn't care who watched me.

Then, I turned around and I just about died laughing. Standing there, soaking wet, slowly venturing farther away from the pavilion, was Sherlock. I can't believe he followed me. I can't believe that he's standing there in the rain. Eyebrows raised, I jogged over to him.

"You can't be serious." I said

"Clearly, I am. Considering the fact that I am standing here in the bitter cold rain instead of under the pavilion making fun of you, I'd think that I'm serious, wouldn't you think?"

"For me?" I asked in my "you've got to be f**king kidding me" voice.

"No." he said sharply, "It's an experiment."

"Really?" I crossed my arms, "Do tell."

"You wouldn't understand."

I looked at him. He looked back. I gave him a look that said "Oh, come on. Spill."

"Of, fine. I'm trying to observe the traditional way of functioning in this highly sophisticated planet through the taste and point of view as a conventional individual to see what a routine would be."

"So, basically, you're trying to see what it's like to live life as a normal person to see how other people without your brilliant mind even function in the world?"

"Yes, basically. How am I doing?"

"This isn't even close to what normal people do when it rains. The classic way is, I don't know, an umbrella?" I suggested.

"Oh. I see. What does one usually do in a normal routine?"

"Ah, lexicon dart loan!" I sighed, throwing out a random three words that came to mind that weren't really random at all, "Do I have to explain everything?"

"O-of course not. I could just ask someone else."

"Who? Everyone else has an abnormal life because they're so involved with you."

"What?"

"None of your 'friends' lead normal lives. My life is about as normal as it gets." It was difficult to lie, but I kept on going.

"Well, tell me. What is normal?"

"Get up, go to school, go to work, do homework, dinner, bed." I shrugged, "It's all very normal. Right now, with a part time job and school just when ever, I don't have a stable schedule right now. However, when I finally start teaching, I'll get a more stable schedule."

"It sounds so dull."

"It is dull." I said, "I've always longed for adventure, so I've been considering teaching over-seas."

"And leave John?"

"I'd have to. The long-distance thing would never work. We'd grow apart."

"You did just say that you didn't want to go overseas."

"It's an on and off thing."

I'm going to be honest here... I have been considering moving away from London for my job. It's too hard to have Sherlock just THERE all the time, and I haven't gotten a fun case in years. I was thinking of Paris. Or Seoul. Or New York. I could do it. I speak French and Korean and several other languages, but I just haven't had the heart to leave London. I'd miss it far too much. My family is here. My friends are here. I have a life here, and I sure as hell don't want to leave it. But... what if I have to?

"Ah, I see." Sherlock's eyes narrowed for a moment.

"Oh, just get used to it." I said, stepping closer to him, "I'm a very spontaneous, mysterious girl." I smirked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, watching me.

"It means," I paused for dramatic effect, "I have your keys."

There was a moment where we just stared at each other as he processed my words. In my head, I counted to ten. Exactly on ten, it clicked in his head and I held up the key chain with two keys on it. What the second key was for... I have no idea. Sherlock's eyes widened and made a grab for the key. I turned and I ran as fast as I could away from him. He followed suit, nearly catching up with me a few times.

"See?" I called, "You're not the only one who pick-pockets when they're annoyed."

I didn't look back to see if he processed that. We ran around the field, dodging each other as he chased me. Clearly, we were two very fit people who were running around without tiring out. We ran a lot, obviously. So, how would a school teacher be this fit and able to run for this long? They should be breathing hard and a bit out of shape because of all the studying nessicary.

A few times, he'd get too close and I'd cry out...

"Certain load lax!" "Declaration Lax!" "Lilac trade axon!"

All of those random expressions had a common anagram. It was getting fun, messing with him. Screaming out my name, but not saying anything at all. I tossed back my head and laughed, unable to hold back.

Then, he caught me. He grabbed my wrist, turned me sharply and pressed me against the nearest solid mass, which happened to be a tree. We were both breathing hard, our breathing feeling like ice as we inhaled. He stood not three inches from me, both hands pinning my hands to the tree, my hands even with my head. Our eyes locked. My green ones kept a firm hold with his icy blue eyes. God, he was hot.

Yes, I hate him. Yes, I think he's hot. It's happened before. Shut up.

Unlike some people, I managed to keep eye contact. Even Lestrade has a hard time looking him right in the eyes. I could tell that this eye contact annoyed Sherlock even more. Oh, good god, this is so much fun. It was so much fun, I was able to ignore the pain in my back.

As I stared into his beautiful blue spheres, something clicked in his head. Oh, here it was. I saw it inside him. It had to be. Counting down...

"Do you... have an uncle or a cousin or a grandfather with the name 'Alexander'?" he asked.

"Phsaw." I scoffed, "Really, now. Is that a question to ask a girl who you're pinning up against a tree with people watching?"

"It is for me. You see, I'm very spontaneous." he said in a low voice.

"Fair enough. To answer your question, no. No, he was not my father, either. My dad's name is Ronald." I sighed, as if bored.

"Who is Alexander Colt?" Sherlock practically shoved my away, exasperated.

"You know, you could be looking in the wrong place." I said, walking towards the pavilion.

"What the hell do you mean?" he asked, following me, "Are you related to him? Oh, that's too in the place I was just looking in." he said pointedly.

"I do have some sort of... relationship with him." I said suggestively.

"Are you cheating on John?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course not. I just know him. I'm close with him. I haven't seen him since he was in that explosion." I nearly gave up and dropped an even bigger hint then that, but this game wasn't over yet.

"Damn." he muttered as we walked up the two stairs into the pavilion.

"Keep on looking."

"Why won't you tell me where I can find him?" he asked suddenly as he pulled on his coat.

"Because." I shrugged on my jacket, "I've been sworn to secrecy." Sherlock ran a hand through his hair, groaning. "Mmm... tough break." I patted his shoulder.

"I guess I'll keep looking. I just need to pop by my flat to change first." he set off towards his flat. I cleared my throat loudly, and he turned as he descended into the rain again.

"You'll need these." I held up his keys.

Wordlessly, he took two long strides, took the keys from me, and rushed out into the rain towards his flat. I smirked as I watched him go. After a minute of watching him, I followed, needing to change before my meeting today. I wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but I'm sure it was past nine. Still a few hours, but I had work to do.

As I pushed through the door, my phone rang. God, he was so clingy. He wasn't even my boyfriend?

Damn it, phone, what the hell do you want?

"Hello?" I practically snapped.

"Goodness, Alexandria." Lestrade sighed on the other end.

"And what would you like, my good boss?" I asked, putting on the innocence act.

"You're never going to guess what got taken to the morgue no less then ten minutes ago."

"What?"

"An old 미녀 operative." he said in a low voice as if others could hear him, "She had the tattoo on her shoulder and the tan spot where her necklace used to be."

"So..." I trailed off, "They're back?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that one of them is dead. I don't know which one yet. Their assassin is using a different technique."

"Interesting... Now, I have one more question for you..."

"I'm on leave for two more weeks. Why the hell are you calling me?" I asked.

"B-because..." he trailed off and he wa silent for a long minute.

"Riiight. You didn't think of that, did you?"

"No. No I didn't."

"Exactly. Well, now that you've mentioned it to me, inform me every time a body is found."

"Fine." he sighed, knowing I would persist until I got what I wanted.

"Did you find anything with the body?"

"No. Just their symbol. But the funny thing was... her necklace was gone."

"Her necklace was gone?" I exclaimed.

Each member of the 미녀 had a necklace that was a piece of a puzzle that was made completely of expensive rocks. They kept it close to them at all times. I'm pretty sure that they slept with them to keep them safe.

"The team couldn't find it anywhere."

"She is a former member. She could have given it back."

"Once a 미녀, always a 미녀.." Lestrade said, "She'd never just give it back. At least not without a fight. Besides, that place on her chest where it would usually be is pale, so it's been recently removed."

"Interesting. I'll keep my eyes open."

"No. Don't do that. Rest."

"I feel fine. I was just running in the rain." I scoffed.

"I'd imagine that your back hasn't entirely healed." he said and I winced, "Well. I should go. Talk to you later."

"Of course." I hung up the phone without another word.

My back honestly hadn't healed all the ay, but I was really good at pretending like it wasn't killing me. Being pressed up against a tree didn't help, either. I wouldn't be surprised if it was bleeding a little in places. It was just the way it worked. I wished that it would heal faster so I could go back to work. I long for the thrill. I long for Sherlock Holmes to be stumped on a case, or about me, and I will have to swoop in and kick his ass.

Well, there I go again. I have to stop that... Sherlock Holmes can't occupy my head all the time. I have better things to do. Better people in my life. And a lunch meeting in half an hour. Shit. I'd better get going.

I pulled a nice, dark red blazer over my tank top and slipped on my black business heels to pull everything together, grabbed my black purse and a random umbrella I found laying around. The next thing I knew, I was running through the streets of London, remembering my jacket five blocks too late. The place we were meeting was just a small, cute little place. It wasn't going to be a lunch, I guess. More as tea and a pastry.

From the looks of things, I was early. There was almost no one here at all. Just an old couple who looked like regulars, and a very focused collage student on the free Wi-Fi were scattered around. Luckily no one watched me as I stepped inside. I ordered my tea and went to sit down. However, before I even started to sit, the cashier stopped me.

"Wait a moment. Are you Crystal Greene?" she asked, looking a bit scared.

"Yes... Why?"

"We have a special table for you."

"F-for me?" I asked, "Seriously?"

"Of course. Right this way, please."

No one in the coffee shop seemed to notice as I left. To think that they could be my last witnesses as I walk to my death. Oh, she won't kill me. At least not yet. She could be the one who kills me when the time comes, but it's doubtful she'll kill me now. She has no motive to. At least none yet.

I was led to a room on the second floor, which I wasn't aware they actually had access to. The second floor was one large room with peeling wallpaper and a hard-wood, freshly polished floor. In the middle sat a table that looked like they had taken it right from the Grammy's. Sitting behind one of the two chairs sitting very far apart, was an average looking Korean woman who looked to be about thirty five and she needed to get her cat to the vet soon. Jeez. Poor thing.

She looked about Hwa Eun's age, give or take a couple of years. She didn't seem to be under any stress, but deep in her eyes, I could see that she was stressing over her cat. I wondered if Hwa Eun would flinch if I mentioned this woman's name.

Respectfully, I bowed, introducing myself in Korean. She turned to look at me with light golden eyes. I didn't know that Korean's could have gold eyes, but here is a perfect example. The woman smiled and nodded for me to sit down. Cautiously, I sat down across from her.

"Relax." she said, "I'm not going to kill you. I don't like to get my hands dirty."

"I have to be careful of who I trust." I said.

"I understand. As a very powerful detective, I would assume you're always on your guard. Go get this kind woman her tea, Gustav." Gustav, looking terrified, left in a hurry.

"There is never a moment where I am not completely on my guard."

"Then you must like this man, Sherlock Holmes, a great deal."

"Trusting someone doesn't always mean liking someone." I put in.

"Why did you wish to see me?"

"I'm surprised that you agreed to meet because I am aware that you are a part of the 미녀.."

"Of course. I am aware that you are a detective. What of it?" she looked at me quizzically.

"You are aware that one of the women from the group was killed recently."

"Of course." she said casually, "I had no strong personal connection to her."

"Who was she?"

"She was a woman of a poor life, which was probably why she turned to us. I don't think she'd ever made more then eleven thousand pounds at a time, and she lived in the riskier part of London, which wasn't very good for her, considering that she's Korean. She left because the life as one of us was far too difficult for her and she couldn't handle it. Even after she left, she lived poorly. I wouldn't be surprised if she just got fed up with it all and ended it herself."

"Did she seem like a bad person?"

"I didn't really bother myself with her very much. As far as I could tell, she seemed a bit... sad. She couldn't seem to get her life together, so I don't blame her."

"What about you? Do you have your life together?"

"Of course. Why would I not?"

"I thought all of the 미녀 weren't well off, and that's why they joined. Poor living situations turning them resentful of everyone."

"Usually. And then they go seek refuge at the theater where they train to be one of us. They train until they become powerful enough and they join us, bringing to the table only what they know best."

"And what do you know best?"

"I know lots of things. What do you know best?"

"I know many things. I wonder if I know more then you."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I know more about you then you'd ever think."

"Are you certain of that?"

"You're voice in scratching slightly. You've been singing a lot, and there are circles under your eyes because you haven't been sleeping well. You've been worried about your cat, but she just needs to be neutered, so I don't see why you're losing sleep. You should probably take him to a vet. You're wearing heels and you're not comfortable in heels. You probably take dance and you never wear heels higher then an inch, in and a half. You know, jazz shoes. Judging from the fact that you can't stop fidgeting, they're really hurting. Your father, who still lives in Korea, is having a bit of a hard time, you know, with your brothers passing, so you might want to give him a call. Maybe you should fly back to Korea and leave this whole thing behind, but I know you're not going to do that."

"Why?"

"Because I am the greatest detective of all time, and you want to see me fooled. That, I'm afraid, is not going to happen. I think I have all that I need." I stood and started to move towards the door to leave, when her voice stopped me.

"Wait, how did you know about my brother?"

"Because no one loses sleep over their cat being neutered. Not that much sleep, anyway."

With that, I left. I ducked into the rain and I ran down the block a little, but a voice stopped me.

"Alexandria!" I stopped and turned around. Baek Ae Chung, the woman who was just inside, stood there, getting her really cute outfit wet. Hey, I'm a girl. Shut up.

"Yes?" I asked, holding my hand over my eyes, protecting them from the rain.

"Sherlock Holmes has finally met his match."

"What about it?"

"Respect that. You have an advantage. Use it. What are you afraid of? What have you to hide as Crystal Greene? I know how much you love to have fun."

~!~!~!~!~!~

_What are you afraid of? What have you to hide? _I know how much you love to have fun. That phrase echoed in my head over and over. Even with Nickelback playing in the background, I could only hear Ae Chung's words. "_I know how much you love to have fun_." What did that mean? Could it be related to the case at all, or could it be a normal exchange. But... she knows who Sherlock Holmes is. She knows that I know him.

How do they know me so well? Is there a mole in my life? Someone who is leaking this information out. Of course not. I haven't seen anyone from my normal life in ages. I haven't seen Vanessa in nearly a month in a half. That needs to change. I suppose I'll call her up tomorrow or something. Right now, I have too much on my mind.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, jumping up off of my couch. I started to pace. Phantom? A familiar quote. Words about a fact of my life that no one should just KNOW like that. What do I do now? I have an appointment tomorrow with another 미녀 operative tomorrow evening. I think she's a bit older then Ae Chung.

I feel like I got nothing from Ae Chung today. She's a dancer, she's been singing. Musical theater? Well, that's not much. She quoted... something. Maybe something from her script. I don't know. God, I hate not knowing. It's an awful feeling. I want to know. What are they up to? They're bribing me to figure out what they're doing. Normally, they wouldn't tell anyone what they were doing, but instead, they told me right up that they were doing something and I had to figure it out.

Why would they do that? What do they have to gain? Well, they're killing my family and friends in order for me to hurry, so it must be massive. It's almost like they want me to figure it out. They WANT me to stop them. Why would they do something like that? Unless they didn't want to go through with it or something. Like, it was a nuclear bomb sitting in the center of London, but that scenario is unlikely. Even they wouldn't go that far.

Then, snapping me out of my revere was my phone vibrating in my pocket.

"Hello?" I asked, still pacing.

"Something is on your mind, clearly." said my boyfriend.

"How did you know?"

"Your curtains are open. I can see you."

"Really?" I ran to the window and looked down on the street where John stood in the light of the streetlight.

"Yes." We grinned at each other.

"Hey, it's raining. Why don't you come up?" I offered, "I'll make you tea."

"It's getting late..." John trailed off.

"I know." I grinned.

"Oh. I see. I'm coming up then."

"See you in a few. The door is open. I'll be in the kitchen putting the water on."

"Alright."

I ventured into the kitchen and pulled a kettle and two mugs from the cabinet. I filled the kettle with cold water and John was opening the door by the time I had started the fire under the black kettle. I turned around, leaning against the counter, a good distance from the stove. I crossed my arms and smiled at my boyfriend. He came over to me and put an arm on either side of me.

"How was your day?" I asked him, lightly kissing him.

"It was good. A bit slow. I just needed time away from Sherlock." John grinned.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, "Next time take me with you!"

"I will." he laughed.

"You're still all wet." I said running my hand down his sleeve.

"It's only been two minutes since I've been inside."

"Would you like me to help you get a bit more... comfortable?"

"How would you do that?" he asked, a glint in his eye.

"First of all, we have to get you out of those clothes," I smirked.

"Gladly." John said, kissing me.

A mere five minutes later, he was only in his boxers and I was still fully dressed and he was leading me towards my bedroom. Soon, we collapsed on my bed and I tossed my t-shirt away and kept kissing. However, a moment later, he stopped. He looked at me. At my torso and arms, noticing something he clearly hadn't before.

"Crystal." he breathed, running a finger over a scar on my stomach. The white gashes were everywhere, varying in size and pink-ness. They were on my arms, shoulders, and my stomach.

"Yes, John?" I asked, knowing this was it.

"What happened to you?"

"You could say I'm accident prone, I suppose." I said, touching a scar on the opposite arm.

"You mean to tell me you tripped and fell multiple times, resulting in the scarring of you... everywhere."

"Yes. I guess you could say that."

"Crystal, _seriously._ What happened?" he was sitting next to me now, so I sat up, "What happened that made you like... this?"

"I just fell. Walked into a few things by accident as well. Being a teacher is more dangerous then you might think." I smiled reassuringly.

"Well... If you say so, but we are going to talk about this later." he said as he pushed me back down on my bed, locking our lips once more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: Nancy Colt**

_Nancy hadn't called her daughters in a while and she supposed that she should call them soon. _Though, Nancy was sure that her dear Alexandria was having a fantastic night with her boyfriend.

Alexandria Violet Colt. Nancy sighed happily as she made her dinner. Her daughter was so smart and successful. She was all she ever wanted to be. Nancy was proud of her daughter. She was following her fathers footsteps. In a way, it worried Nancy. Besides, Alexandria was too much like her father.

Her husband died in an explosion many years ago because he got too far and they were able to get to him. Though, Alexandria was a very clever girl and she was often able to evade the more dangerous things, and if she was in a dangerous situation, she could handle it, no problem.

Maria on the other hand, needed to get her life together. Ah, Maria. Alexandria's old boyfriend, Nathan, cheated on Alex with Maria and thought he could get away with it.

"How cute." Nancy laughed at the thought.

Maria needed a job desperately. Something, anything that paid more then that silly little souvenir place near the palace. She needed to go to school and get a better job. She needed to get rid of that moron she calls a boyfriend. Nathan should have just left both of her girls alone. Nancy figured she'd have to talk to him.

Once Nancy was finished with her dinner, she went to the freezer to get some chocolate ice cream so she could watch a movie before bed, but she found no ice cream. Nancy sighed. At least the convenience store wasn't too far away so it wouldn't take long. Nancy grabbed her purse, pulled on her shoes and went out onto the street.

Maria's flat wasn't too far away, and Nancy wondered if she should pop in just to say hello, but she knew how her daughters never liked it when she did. Nancy knew they loved her, but they wanted her to respect their privacy. Of course, Nancy hadn't seen Maria since Alex got out of the hospital a couple of weeks ago.

Alexandria was famous in their family for her fast recoveries. When she was six, she broke her arm falling out of a tree and a week and a half later, the doctor took her cast off. She took after her father in more ways than one. Alexandria was ridiculously smart. She taught herself to read, and she memorized the multiplication tables in two days. Now, she was an undercover detective for the London Police, like her father. Nancy couldn't be any more proud. Alexandria was very successful, and Nancy loved it.

Once Nancy had her ice cream and was heading home, she realized that the street was silent. There wasn't a person or a car in sight. She looked around, wondering where everyone was. Was there a football game on TV? Probably not, the next game wasn't for a few days. Nevertheless, Nancy walked faster. She looked behind her and walked a bit faster. When she looked forwards, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Oh, it was just a lamp post. Nothing to worry over. Nancy hurried to her apartment, and once she was inside, she locked everything. The windows, the doors, and she even hid her jewelry box. Then, she prepared herself some ice cream.

Nancy stood in the kitchen and took a spoonful of the creamy, chocolaty goodness and savoured each cold, rich, chocolate-filled second the ice cream was in her mouth. Ah, double chocolate ice cream was simply divine. Nancy took another spoonful and put in in her mouth. Ahhh, how she loved chocolate ice cream.

Suddenly, Nancy heard a noise from the other room. A small thump that she should have thought nothing of, but it echoed in her head. Nancy moved towards the living room and she stepped into the room. The window was open and there was a soft breeze blowing her curtains slightly. The chair near the window was slightly out of place. Nancy moved farther into the room, still holding her ice cream, but now she was holding so tight, her knuckles were turning white.

Nancy gulped heavily, coming to a sudden realization. Slowly, she turned around. Standing there in the arch to the kitchen was a beautiful Asian woman. She had long flowing hair and black, obsidian eyes. She wore a shiny, leather suit that hugged her form beautifully and tall boots to make her as tall as possible. She had a slight smirk playing on her lips. Nancy dropped her bowl of ice cream.

"Wh-who are you?" Nancy managed, "And what are you doing in my house?"

"Who I am is none of your concern." The woman said, her voice thick with accent, "What I'm doing here should be your worry."

"I'm not going to tell you where Crystal is." Nancy stuttered.

"Oh, sweetheart, let's not play any games. I know that her name isn't Crystal. Now, Mrs. Colt, you know that Alexandria is the Queen in our game?"

"W-what game?"

"A game of which you are a pawn."

"I'm sorry?" Nancy barely got the words out.

"Oh, it's no use trying to explain. You'll wouldn't understand." the woman pointed a gun at Nancy, "Or, you wouldn't get to understand."

The woman pulled the trigger.

~!~!~!~!~

_Sherlock paced his flat, trying to block out the sound of his neighbor and her boyfriend on the other side of the wall._ Even though they were sort of loud, he wasn't thinking about them at all. He was thinking about the detective who kept escaping him.

Alexander Colt. This man made everything that Sherlock was trying to work on seem unimportant. He's passed up a few spectacular cases in the past few days and he was beating himself up. In another way, however, it didn't matter. Alexander Colt may be just a man, but he's the hardest man to find. Sherlock has had people he was looking for and it took ages to find them, but never this long.

Alexander seemed to know everyone around Sherlock, and everyone around Sherlock refused to tell him a damn thing. They all seemed to know a lot about this Alexander guy, but no one wanted him to know anything. It was as if they were all hiding something from him. Something huge and obvious and right in front of his face. God, what was it.

It wasn't like he could just throw in the towel and give up. No one would even believe him anyway. Or tell him anything. That was the thing about his personality, and Alexander's identity. No one would tell him anything. He had to figure it out on his own. Sherlock was beginning to doubt that he'd ever figure it out, but he had to.

Then, a thought occurred to him. It was unlikely, but at this stage of the game, he'd just about follow every lead he came across. This, however, wasn't much of a lead at all, but it was all he had. Sherlock grabbed his coat and his scarf, and he didn't bother with an umbrella. The rain seemed to be lightening up anyway.

Sherlock ran out onto the street and headed up a familiar route. It had been a few days since he'd been up this way, and it was only his second time. Soon, he came to the familiar neighborhood and he sped up. He reached the nice little two-story flat of Nancy Greene and he knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He noticed the window next to the door was open, and he called inside, but then he saw he state of the room.

One of the chairs was overturned, some of the lamps had fallen over and some of the bulbs had smashed. The room was in ruins and there had obviously been a struggle. Sherlock reached for the doorknob, and as his hand closed around it, it fell apart in his hand. Some how it had been destroyed. Sherlock hurried into the flat and looked around.

The flat was completely destroyed. As Sherlock looked closer, there were red smears here and there. There was blood. The more he looked, the more blood he saw. When he reached the kitchen, there was a pool of it near the small half-circle kitchen table. He turned around and he saw the message written in blood on the wall.

"_Sherlock,_

_We're smarter then you thought, eh? I'm sure Crystal would think so, too. There is much more to us than meets the eye."_

~!~!~!~!~

_It was one in the morning and John still couldn't sleep_. He was on his side, looking at his sleeping girlfriend. She slept on her stomach, and turned her head so her hair splayed over the pillow. The scratches on Crystal's back were scarring now, but John bet that they still hurt like crazy.

She was beautiful. Probably one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen and he got to DATE her. Sherlock may not like her much, but John did. He thought about her all the time. She may be a complete mystery, but she's the best mystery that had ever happened to him.

John reached over and gently pushed a hair out of her face and smiled softly. Man, she was so beautiful, he could hardly contain himself. Though, now that John thought about it, Sherlock couldn't keep his eyes off of her, either. Sherlock seemed to always be watching her.

Though, now that John thought about it more, Sherlock seemed to really like Crystal. He may think he hates her, but he likes her. Well, then again, there is that whole thing where he keeps coming to her for information. Crystal sure did seem to know a lot. So, that could be the reason he likes her. Sherlock wasn't human enough to process "beautiful." He was just that dense.

John decided that he would test him. John needed answers and he damn sure knew how to get them.

~!~!~!~!~!~

_Nicky was positively terrified. _He was alone in the dark and he didn't know what to do about it. Nicky kept cursing himself for not training karate or Tae Kwon Do all the way to the black belt. Or studying hard enough to get into a police academy. Of, course, that's not really what he wanted to do, but at the moment, it was looking pretty appealing.

Nicky didn't know how long he'd been there. He was kept in the dark. He couldn't find a door, or really anything in the room. He figured the door could only be opened from one side. For all he knew a week had passed, or a month. What had he done to deserve this. He had no idea. He was sure there had to be something.

As the days, or hours, wore on, Nicky had no idea what was real life, or just a dream. Occasionally, a slat in the door would open and a tray of food would slide into the room and the slat would stay open just long enough for Nicky to find his way to the tray. The food was always fantastic. It was like some gourmet Italian chef was cooking for him.

That was rare, however, and Nicky loved the light. He missed it. He wanted to bask in it. He dreamt about it when he went to sleep, and sometimes... he even forgot what it was.

Then, when he was about to give up hope and let himself starve to death, the door opened. Nicky, blinded, covered his eyes just enough so his retinas wouldn't burn. In the doorway, there was a woman dragging along another woman who looked familiar. The woman who was being dragged was thrown into the room mercilessly and the door slammed shut.

Nicky slowly crept towards where the unconscious woman was but stopped suddenly when he felt warm, thick liquid not far from where she was laying. Blood. Was she dead? Nicky couldn't tell. Nor did he want to.

~!~!~!~!~!~

"_Mom?!" Crystal called as she ran up to her mothers flat._ Sherlock had called her a few minutes before telling her about her mother. Clearly, she'd rushed. Her hair was a mess, she wearing wrinkly sweatpants, a wrinkly and stretched tank top, a lop-sided jacket and her shoelaces weren't tied. As she ran up, she was tying her messy black hair in a messy ponytail.

"Where's John?" Sherlock was shocked that she hadn't brought him along.

"He's asleep. It is three in the morning." she scoffed, then her face grew serious, "What the hell are you doing at my mothers house."

"I-I thought."

"That I was Alexander Colt, or something more like Alexandra or Alexandria, and you could get it out of my mother?" she accused.

"No, not at all. I just thought... her husband might have said something about him. I don't think you're Alex Colt."

"Okay, fine."

As she headed up the stairs into her mothers flat, something inside Sherlock changed. He wasn't really sure what it was, but it was strong. It was a bit of a spike. Sherlock expected it to go away. In fact, he wanted it to go away, but it didn't. If anything, it stuck to him like a wasp stuck in amber.

Sherlock tried to shake it off, failed, sighed, and followed it flatmate's girlfriend and neighbor into her mothers flat.

Crystal stared at the writing in blood on the kitchen wall, unmoving. She looked as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment. Sherlock didn't know who these people where and he doubted that Crystal would know. She looked down at her feet, her hand over her mouth. Sherlock watched from across the room, leaning against the wall. He hadn't called the police yet. The last thing she needed were a bunch of strangers storming her mothers house.

There was no doubt the blood was Nancy's. Sherlock tried to calculate who could have possibly done this to hurt Crystal, but suddenly, his thinking process was stopped by something he never expected to happen. He noticed that Crystal's body was lightly shaking. Her eyes were closed, but small droplets of moisture ran down her cheeks then fell to the floor. Right in front of his eyes, he saw the most powerful woman he knew break down in front of him.

"C-Crystal?" he managed.

"Not now, Sherlock." she choked.

"Crystal, come here." he said, walking to the center of the room.

"What?" she practically snapped.

"Come here."

Crystal dropped her hand and she moved to stand in front of Sherlock in the center of the room. She looked at him expectantly for a moment. Then, he did something neither of them expected. Sherlock stepped forward and took her in his arms. He hugged her as tight as he dared without suffocating her. She stood like a statue in his arms, stiff and unmoving.

"Sherlock..." she said, "What the hell are you doing?"

"About as much affection I can express."

"Well, it's weird."

"Alright, fine." Sherlock let go, "Let's see if there's a coffee shop is open."

"It's three in the morning." Crystal said pointedly, stepping away from him.

"I'm sure there's somewhere. Come on."

Sherlock took Crystal's wrist and they dragged her into the streets of London. They walked through London and they eventually did find an open coffee shop. It was a small place, so the coffee wasn't all that great, but it was something. They both got decaf and they found themselves sitting by the window.

The next thing they knew, a cop walked in, got a very strong espresso, then went to stand outside to drink it. Sherlock was smiling like an idiot and he was glad that Crystal wasn't looking at him. He wasn't entirely sure why he was smiling, but he sure knew what to do next time Crystal was feeling a little down.

Then, it occurred to him that she looked fine. She had her breakdown earlier, but now... she looked fine.

"Crystal... are you alright?" he asked, "You look like you know something."

"Of course I _know something. _I know lots of things, in fact. You might be surprised." she said. She was obviously annoyed with him. "I know so much, that sometimes I think I know more than you. Of course... you probably meant about the message on the wall written in my mothers blood. Maybe I do know something about the Mi Nyo, but I probably don't because I'm just so stupid."

"Crystal, I-"

"Hold on." she said, interrupting me to look at the screen on her phone, "Gotta take this."

She stood up and moved to the other side of the room. She whispered frantically into the phone, pausing a few times. Sherlock listened intently, but he couldn't catch anything. When she came back, she sat down across from him, looked at him very seriously and said,

"Maybe I'm not okay."


	13. Chapter 13

**(A/N: I know, you're all freaking out. Hopefully, this chapter answers some questions, but I am certain it will stir up some more. ;) I'm already writing Chapter 14, so don't worry.) **

**Chapter 13: Vanessa Jones**

_John and I sat on a familiar couch sipping wine across from my best friend and her boyfriend. _We were having a bit of a couples night with wine, dinner, and some detective movie later on. I tried to insist against it, but Vanessa and her boyfriend, Frankie, and John all wanted to watch one.

It's not like Vanessa doesn't know who I am. Of course she does. I've known Vanessa since Primary school, so its only natural that she would know who I was. She probably just wants to show John how good of a detective I am, but I don't want him to figure out yet. If that happened, I might not know what to do.

I hadn't seen Vanessa in ages, and I thought it was only right to see her with my new boyfriend. Well, "new" was kind of an old word to use now. Well, he was new to Vanessa, but that word makes me feel like he's a trophy or something, and he so is not.

Last night, Sherlock and I were out until the wee hours of the morning. He was surprisingly quiet during most of it so I could let it sink in. Of course, I hated the silence so he let me talk as much as I wanted and he didn't correct me or make a snappy remark to stir up the conversation. Near the end, as we were only two blocks away, I stopped him at one of the two crosswalks.

"_Sherlock?" I asked._

"_What?"_

"_There's something I want you to know."_

"_That would be?"_

"_Tonight I have showed you a side that I don't intentionally show people a lot. I want your word that you won't tease me about this or tell anyone about it."_

"_I... I promise." Sherlock assured me._

"_So," I looked across the street at the other side, "When we get over there, this vulnerable, on the edge, one wrong word from breaking down me that is with you now is going to go away." I looked at him, "I'm going to become the me that annoys the socks of you and there is going to be no trace of this me anywhere, no matter how hard you dig."_

"_I understand."_

_Then, I walked alone to the other side of the street, took in a breath and I turned around, a somewhat annoyed look on my face._

"_Are you coming, or what? Jeez. I don't have all day." I rolled my eyes and I walked away, leaving him to trail behind me._

I pretended last night didn't happen, which was the easier thing to do. I didn't even tell John what happened. I know I should be truthful with him and tell him who I am and where my family is and what the hell is going on, but I just... can't. The longer this goes on the more I knew it's going to hurt us both when... if... we break up.

Another 미녀 operative turned up last night. Lestrade called me and explained some of the details to me and explained, in great detail, why he decided he didn't want me on this case at all. Even if my back heals well enough, I'm not aloud on the case.

"_What? Why?" I exclaimed, looking back at Sherlock who was completely clueless._

"_I can't risk it, Alex. You're too important to us and you will be coming in too late on the case."_

"_It could last months, Lestrade." I rasped, making sure Sherlock couldn't hear me._

"_They know you."_

"_They know you, too, Lestrade. I should be allowed on this case. My father worked on a case involving the __미녀 __and he was able to bring them in. I brought one in last time they turned up."_

"_Exactly. They probably want revenge and I don't want to put you in this position."_

"_What? You don't want to use me as bait?" I said a little too loudly and I whispered again, "I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes to bring them in."_

"_I know, Detective Colt. It's not going to happen. I value your life too much to do that to you. Even if we need your help before you can officially come back on duty."_

"_I know you will need me." I snapped and I hung up. I made my way to the table where Sherlock sat, waiting. "Maybe I'm not okay." I sighed._

Sherlock didn't bug me too much today, and I suppose that was good. He came over this afternoon saying I'd dropped five quid when we were buying coffee. He said he intended on keeping it, but he decided to give it back. He couldn't look me in the eye and he walked away as quickly as he could.

Then, Vanessa called me inviting John and I over for a couples night and I agreed, longing for some sort of distraction. I called John once I got off of the phone with Vanessa and he said he would love to meet Vanessa so he would clear up his schedule.

Now, here we were, talking in Vanessa's living room. We were talking and laughing over a glass of wine. I knew how high her tolerance was compared to Frankie's, so I watched him out of the corner of my eye to make sure he didn't drink too much. Vanessa and Frankie and been dating for two and a half years and she still isn't very conscious of his alcohol tolerance.

Vanessa is actually a very sharp girl and she's good at banter which is probably why she's dating Frankie. For the first year after they met before they got together, every time they would have long streams of undying banter. They suited each other well. The flirting was endless and after a while, those who were observing just wanted them to kiss and just get together already. That is exactly what they did.

Vanessa has been training to be a marine biologist and she's going to be going on a few expeditions these next few months in places like The Great Barrier Reef, Florida Keys, The Sea of Japan, and various... aquatic locations in that general vicinity of the Earth. Just like me, she wanted to follow in the footsteps of her father who got killed doing what he loved. Vanessa's father was killed in a rather violent shark attack. No one has been willing to tell her family the whole story.

In a way, I'm terrified to be here. I don't want the 미녀 to take her as well, but I have a feeling they will anyway. This afternoon I even wrote down a list of people who could possibly go missing because of me. I kept it covered and I have it in my bra, currently. I do not want this thing out of my sight. It has the people who have already been taken on it so I can keep track of who is gone. Of course, only two people have gone, but I feel in my gut that there are going to be more.

"Is anyone up for desert?" Vanessa asked suddenly, "Frankie and I made cake."

"Sounds good." I said, and John agreed.

I went with Vanessa to prepare the cake. I knew she would want to talk one on one for a minute, regarding John. The cake was a beautiful one. It was double layered, chocolate and vanilla with chocolate icing and caramel designs on it. It looked fantastic and I could hardly wait to eat it.

"So," Vanessa said as we prepared four pieces, "John seems nice."

"He is." I smiled.

"What does he do?"

"Well, he was a doctor in the army. He's seen some pretty gruesome stuff."

"Have you two..." she nudged me slightly.

"Last night." I whispered.

"Oh my goodness, that was fast."

"Maybe so, but I like him."

"How was he?"

"I don't kiss and tell, Vanessa." I grinned.

"Do you think it'll last?"

"I hope so."

"Listen, Alex." she whispered my name, "You have to tell him who you are or it's not going to last. If it's for a case, fine, but if you really like this guy, you have to tell him."

"I know, but-"

"No buts." Vanessa scolded, "As soon as you get a moment, you have to tell him. I'm only looking out for you."

"I know. I'll tell him soon, I promise."

We took the four plates back out into the living room where the boys were working on setting up the movie. John was turning the couches to face the TV and Frankie was changing the cables in the TV so the monitor would hook up to the CD Player. Vanessa was too busy paying for school to get a modern TV.

I handed John his cake and we sat together on one of the couches. Vanessa waited for Frankie to return before she turned out of the lights and starting on her cake. I didn't know heaven existed on Earth, but I have decided that heaven is chocolate cake.

Vanessa had picked out a movie I had never seen before, just to test me. I'd never even heard of it. As first, it was difficult to see what the movie was about, but after the first half an hour, I reached into my purse, pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down who did it. I folded it up and handed it to Vanessa who pocketed it without a word or a glance sideways.

Vanessa and I had a habit of doing this. A few months before I got my job, Vanessa and I were watching a mystery and I randomly blurted out who it was and when I was right, we made a habit of it. Vanessa and I used to watch one or two a month just to test me. I never really needed it, but Vanessa found joy in knowing I could tell who did it from the first half an hour or so.

I resisted blurting out my conclusion in the middle of the movie. John looked like he was trying to work it out as well, and I figured he would get it right. Then, when I thought I could take it no more, the conclusion came and Vanessa paused it. She turned to John and grinned.

"Something you need to know... for the past six or seven years, Crystal and I would watch mysteries and she likes to see if she figured it out. She is always right, as far as I'm concerned, so I would like to hear what Crystal has to say."

"I gave it to you on a piece of paper earlier."

"Ah, yes," Vanessa took one of the pieces of paper out of her pocket, "About half an hour into the movie, she gave me this. Ready for this?"

"Shoot." John said.

"The dad did it. He was having an affair with the dead woman and he killed his nephew because he found out. However, before the nephew was killed, he told his sister who then ran away into the woods and she tripped, fell, was knocked out, and when she wakes up, she'll confirm it all for them."

Then, Vanessa pushed play and about twenty minutes later, John was applauding me and I was blushing like crazy. I had deducted correctly and John was very impressed. Frankie also looked mildly impressed, but he was used to this by now.

"I should have you help Sherlock and I with one of his cases sometime." John said, "We'd be unstoppable."

"I'm afraid I'm not interested in detective work. Vanessa makes me do this. I don't want to do something that makes me unhappy." _Like pretending to be Crystal Greene_. I added silently.

"Who's up for a game of Monopoly?" Vanessa asked.

"I suppose a quick game wouldn't hurt." John said.

"Quick." Frankie and I snickered.

"What?" John asked.

"With the way Vanessa plays, we could be here forever." Frankie said.

"Oh, come on." Vanessa protested, "My last game only lasted an hour and a half."

"Fair enough." I said, "Let's get it out."

The Monopoly conversation consisted of things like, "YES!" "Aww, man!" "Another one! John, I didn't know you were this good." "Dammit!" and the most popular, "Two thousand pounds, please." Long short, John wiped us out in about an hour. It wasn't a very long game at all. Then, we just sat there at the table and talked. Frankie got up to get some more wine at one point and he poured a little more than he could handle in his cup and I casually reached across the table and drunk it for him.

Finally, midnight rolled around and I figured John and I should get going. The goodbyes were heartfelt and filled with phrases like, "I will call you!" "I love you!" and "See you soon!" Then, John and I were off.

"Why did you drink Frankie's wine so much?" John asked, seeming shocked at the fact I was still sober.

"Frankie has a very low alcohol tolerance and Vanessa has a very high one. Sometimes she forgets that. I've known Frankie long enough to know when I have to take care of him."

"Have you and Frankie ever..."

"No!" I exclaimed, "Vanessa and I have known him for five years and it's only ever been Vanessa."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." I assured him, "In fact, I introduced them to each other."

"Really?"

"I've got two happy witnesses in that apartment." I used a bit of American slang.

"Crystal, I have a question and I want you to answer truthfully." John said.

"Yes?"

"Where did you go last night? I heard you getting dressed and the door shut. You seemed to be in a rush."

"I was." I said, "I got a call that my mother..." my voice broke and I trailed off.

"Crystal..."

"My mother could be dead."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" John exclaimed.

"I'm not freaking out because the police are looking into it, so they don't know if she's dead."

"Is she gone?"

"Yes, she'd vanished."

"So, Lestrade called you?"

"No..."

"Donovan?"

"No."

"Anderson?"

"Who called you, Crystal?" John stopped us.

"Sherlock called me. I don't know what he was doing in my mothers area or in her flat at all, but he realized she'd been kidnapped and her flat was in ruins."

"Sherlock? I don't think any of the leads we were looking at led to your mothers area." John mused.

"I think he was looking for Alexander Colt."

"You know about that?" We started walking again.

"Of course. He's asked me about it."

"I didn't know he asked you."

"He's asked me a few times, actually."

"You never told me?"

"I'm sorry. I just..."

"Didn't see a reason to tell me?"

"I suppose not." I said timidly, "I am so sorry, John."

"It's alright. Sherlock and I sure are going to have a bit of a talk tonight."

"Don't worry about it, John. I don't mind."

"You are my girlfriend and he's only known you a little while. He shouldn't be accusing you of being someone you certainly aren't."

"No, the thing is... he's never accused me of being Detective Colt. He's always asked if I know him or if I'm related to him."

"Are you Alexander Colt?" John laughed.

"John, there's something I need to tell you." I said quietly.

"What would that be, Crystal?"

"When I tell you, I don't want you to look at me differently and I want you to know I am still the same person and the thing I tell you only changes one thing about me."

"Of course. Crystal, are you alright? You're as white as a sheet."

To be honest, I didn't feel alright. I was nervous. I wanted him to realize that the only thing that would change about me would be my name and my occupation. Of course, my occupation was his occupation, but it's dangerous. This should be easy.

"John, I am-"

I was interrupted by a vibrating and a loud jungle coming from my front pocket. I jumped and pulled it from my pocket, and the caller I.D. claimed it was my sister, so I hung up, not wanting to talk to her. I wasn't into the mood to talk to my sister who my last boyfriend cheated on me with.

"As I was saying," I said, "I am-" my phone rang again and I ignored it again, "I am in fact-" My phone rang again and I gave up and answered, "_What _do you want, Maria? I'm kind of in the middle of something." I snapped.

"Alex, why didn't you tell me Mum was missing?" Maria exclaimed, and I stepped slightly ahead of John.

"Technically, she has to be gone forty eight hours before she can officially be considered 'missing.'" I stated.

"B-but there was blood."

"Exactly. That's why they made an exception. Well, and she's the mother of... well, a teacher, but she's the wife of a detective."

"A dead detective!" Maria cried, "Aren't you a detective? Why aren't you there?"

"Exactly. Someone could want to get at us. Or take it out on her. Maria, dear, only the finest are on the case."

"What do they have to go on? Aren't you one of the finest?"

"I don't know. Lestrade hasn't called me yet. And no, I'm not at the moment."

"I heard there was a message... on the wall... written in blood, but not for either of us." Maria choked.

"There was. It was for another detective I know. He's a consulting detective and he's the one who found Mum's flat destroyed."

"How did he know where Mum's flat was?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you once I get inside." I said as John and I turned onto Baker street. "John," I lowered my phone a bit to talk to him, "I'll see you tomorrow, alright. I'm sorry. I've got to talk to my sister, you know how it is."

"Yeah, of course." John looked completely understanding. "See you tomorrow."

John leaned over and kissed me before going into his flat. He looked quite determined and I knew he was going to talk to Sherlock. I dug my keys from my pocket and went inside and ran upstairs to my bedroom where I fell back on the bed, taking off my shoes and jacket as I talked to Maria.

"Okay, listen..." I said and I told her about taking John to meet my mother and Sherlock tagging along, then finding Mum's flat later on.

"Who is this 'Sherlock' guy?" Maria asked.

"My neighbor." I shrugged, "And my boyfriend's flatmate. Speaking of which, you should meet John. Then run off and have sex with him."

"Alexandria!" Maria exclaimed, "It was only once. I promise I'll never do it again." There was a pause, "Oh... Oh my god, Alex..."

"Good. Besides, John isn't even your type. If you have any more questions about Mum, then give me a ring or text me. I am going to bed."

"No, Alex, I-"

I hung up and tossed my phone towards my feet and it rang again. God, I couldn't think of a question she could think of right away. She was too slow for that. I got up, taking my phone with me into the kitchen and I got a glass out of the cupboard and I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"You sound as if you are expecting someone else." A cold voice said on the other side.

"Maybe I was. Who is this?" I asked, heading back into my bedroom.

"If I tell you, I know what you will do, Detective." I stopped walking.

"What do you want."

"Oh you know what I want. I've been picking and choosing at my will. I'm still trying to decide who I'm going to take next."

"Why do you want me?"

"We have some unfinished business, Detective. I intend to collect what you owe me."

"You plan to kill me."

"No. I plan to kill one that you love."

"Why not me?" I was honestly confused.

"You took one that I love and in return, I'll take one that you love."

"Who did I take?"

"You killed Min Ho, my... well, I'll leave you to deduct that."

"You... You're taking my options."

"You're very good."

"Min Ho was either your cousin or your mother and you are going to continue picking options and when I figure out who Min Ho is, you're going to kill the equivalent."

"Very quick indeed." The voice drawled, slightly strained.

"Who are you?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

"There are thirteen of you and I have never heard your voice before. How am I supposed to know who you are?"

"Such a Prima Donna," the voice said with a sigh, "If I tell you who I am, it would give everything away and I would just kill everyone. You wouldn't want that, now, would you."

Then, whoever it was hung up, leaving me standing in the middle of my apartment clutching my phone so tight my knuckles were turning white. I clutched the glass in the other hand and I think I felt it crack. I dropped my hand away from my ear and gulped heavily.

Someone very important to me was going to die and there was nothing I could do about it. I now knew what they were doing and why, but... who were they going to kill. Maybe if I figured out where they were, I could confront them there and I could solve everything. I've been known to do that, so it's not completely outrageous. The only problem I have is... where are they?

I slowly ventured into my room and in a pang of fear, I realized that Maria had been freaking out the last couple of seconds we were on the phone and there was a bit of strain in the mystery callers voice. Oh my god.

_Maria. _


	14. Chapter 14

**(A/N: I have no excuse for the gap in between chapters. I honestly don't. I'm writing like crazy and developing the plot and everything, so that takes time. I know what't going to happen, but it's gonna be a while and it's hard to put into words, which probably isn't good. Ah, and I'm running out of names for chapters. If you have any characters I may have forgotten to throw in there, tell me. [I have Moriarty on reserve.])**

**Chapter 14: Frankie Smith**

"_Sherlock..." John called, running upstairs, "I have a few questions for you."_

"What now, John?" Sherlock sighed exasperatedly and hopped out of his armchair to greet John.

"It's about Crystal."

"Listen, John, if it was about last night, all I did was call her about her mother, take her for decaf to calm her nerves and I brought her home."

"At three in the morning?" John exclaimed.

"Yes, three in the morning. I felt it couldn't wait. It's not like I kissed her or anything. You know I don't do that sort of dull relationship thing." Sherlock rolled his eyes and plopped back down in his chair.

"Have you been pressuring her about this Alexander Colt guy?"

"A bit."

"Do you think she knows everyone?"

"Well, it sure seems like she does. Don't you find it strange that she knows Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson? Three of the highest ranking police in London?"

"Her father was a detective."

"Don't you find it odd that both Nicky and Mrs. Greene, who were both kidnapped, are both related to Crystal. And that Detective Colt and Crystal both had injuries from an explosion on the same night, but there was only one explosion the night they got hurt?"

"Perhaps they're not missing. They've just stepped away. And maybe... just maybe... Crystal knows Alexander because they lived in the same building."

"But I only found Crystal that night. If Alex had to be excused from work because of his injuries, he couldn't have gotten away."

"Maybe he wasn't knocked out like Crystal and went to the hospital himself." John couldn't believe that Crystal was this detective. She made it very clear that she didn't want to be involved in criminology at all. "Or," John continued, "Perhaps he was working on the Harriet and Mira case and he knew that Crystal had some dealings with them and left just as the explosives went off and only got minor, but noticeable injuries and didn't see Crystal leave the building."

"There was only one person on that street that night."

Sherlock stood and began to pace, his mind racing. Crystal clearly knew Alexander Colt, but where was he. Who was he? What was he doing dodging Sherlock like this? Why were Crystal's family members vanishing all of a sudden? What did that have to do with Crystal? Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"Did you notice that the people who you have met out of her life have been the ones that have vanished?"

John let that sink in for a moment and then he realized who was going to go next.

"Vanessa." John said and he ran back downstairs and Sherlock, curious, followed.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

_Nancy had never been in so much pain in her life and she had given birth twice. _There was a bullet in her side somewhere and it was burning her insides. She was sure it wasn't in her stomach, but she couldn't get it out.

Nancy tried to get it out, groaning loudly in pain as she did so, but every time she just barely touched the wound, it hurt even more. She knew that Alexandria was going to realize she was gone. Nancy knew her daughter would know she was gone and would find a way to get her back.

She was pretty sure that she was alone in the room, but she felt like she was being watched. Nancy didn't know how of course, seeing as it was a dark room. Perhaps it was night vision or infrared camera filters. Nancy started to sigh, but she grunted in pain as she remembered her bullet wound. She was the wife and now a mother of a detective. She knew more than she'd like to about that sort of business.

Nancy's husband, David Colt, was a brilliant man. He was one of the smartest people she had ever known. They met quite by accident. Nancy was at school and she was going to her next class when he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her out of the way as seven people in black leather jackets ran past. He'd called her beautiful and he asked for her number. Flustered, she'd given it to him. No one had ever called her beautiful before.

David never planned on settling down. He was a dangerous man and he didn't think he would have been able to stand it if something happened to anyone he loved. Than, he fell in love with Nancy and they got married and they had Maria and Alexandria. Maria unfortunately followed in Nancy's footsteps and wasn't all that smart. Alexandria, on the other hand, was smart like her father.

From a young age, she was reading high level books and even asked for Spanish lessons. She took interest in David's work and insisted she had helped him on a few, giving him a few key words to think about. Then, Alexandria flew through school and was a police officer before Nancy was comfortable, but she'd gotten through a bit easier because of her father's guidance.

When Alexandria got her job as a detective, which was quite quickly, her work got very dangerous, and Nancy started having a hard time sleeping. She never knew when she could call Alexandria and she never knew if she was okay. Nancy knew Alexandria was good at what she did, but that didn't stop her from worrying.

Now, Nancy was all wrapped up in it. She knew she was going to eventually, but she never could have imagined being shot. She hadn't even done anything wrong. Well, she did predict the first bullet and manage to dodge it, and the second, but the third sent her tumbling back and knocking over a chair. She had knocked over a few pieces of furniture while she dodged, so she knew she would have some cleaning up to do when she got home.

After she was shot, Nancy didn't remember much. She sort of blacked out, but when she "woke up" she was laying on the kitchen floor and the beautiful Asian woman was writing something on the wall with her fingers. When she ran out of whatever she was using, she reached down and... Nancy shivered with the memory. The feeling of the woman's fingers lightly in the bullet wound. Nancy shut her eyes tight, begging the pain... and the memory to go away.

~!~!~!~!~!~

_When Maria heard that her mother was gone, of course she called her smartass detective sister._ She knew deep inside that her sister still wouldn't be happy with her and would tell her everything about their mother's disappearance.

Still, Maira paced her flat in front of the phone that rested on the coffee table. She knew she had done something terrible. Calling her sister was probably the hardest thing she had ever had to do. It wasn't her fault she got feelings for Alexandria's boyfriend. It wasn't her fault that Alexandria's boyfriend got feelings for her.

Finally, the pacing was over. Maria grabbed her phone and called her sister. It rang a few times and then she was sent to voicemail. Maybe Alex wasn't in the mood to deal with her, but she would have to deal with it. Maria tried again.

"What do you want? I'm kind of in the middle of something." Alexandria snapped on the other side.

"Why didn't you tell me that Mum was missing?" Maria asked.

"Technically. She has to be gone forty eight hours before she can officially be considered 'missing.'"

"B-but there was blood." Maria remembered what the policeman told her.

"Exactly. That's why they made an exception. Well, and she's the mother of... well, a teacher, but she's the wife of a detective."

"A dead detective!" Maria cried.

"Exactly. Someone could want to get at us. Or take it out on her. Maria, dear, only the finest are on the case."

"What do they have to go on?"

"I don't know. Lestrade hasn't called me yet."

"I heard there was a message... on the wall... written in blood, but not for either of us." Maria choked.

"There was. It was for another detective I know. He's a consulting detective and he's the one who found Mum's flat destroyed."

"How did he know where Mum's flat was?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you once I get inside." Alex said and I figured she was out. "John," she must have lowered her phone a bit to talk to her boyfriend, "I'll see you tomorrow, alright. I'm sorry. I've got to talk to my sister, you know how it is."

"Yeah, of course." John sounded completely understanding. "See you tomorrow."

There were sounds in the background as Alex got inside her flat and headed into her bedroom

"Okay, listen..." Alexandria said and she told Maria about taking John to meet their mother and Sherlock tagging along, then finding Mum's flat later on.

"Who is this 'Sherlock' guy?" Maria asked, hearing a creek somewhere in the house, but ignoring it.

"My neighbor and my boyfriend's flatmate. Speaking of which, you should meet John. Then run off and have sex with him."

"Alexandria!" Maria exclaimed when she saw what the source of the sound was. A tall, beautiful Asian woman who was clad in black stood in Maris's living room only five meters away, "It was only once. I promise I'll never do it again." Maria spoke quickly. She was about to tell her sister about the woman, when she was cut off.

"Good. Besides, John isn't even your type. If you have any more questions about Mum, then give me a ring or text me. I am going to bed."

"No, Alex, I-" Maria tried to get her sisters attention, but in one swift movement, the Asian woman made Maria unable to move and took her by the wrist.

Then, the woman took out her phone and dialed a number that she seemed to know by heart. It was clear that this woman wanted something to do with Alex and she was using her family to do it. Maira struggled against the woman's grasp, but she was strong for such a thin woman. When the phone call was over, the woman gave Maria a disdainful look and got to binding her hands and legs.

"So, who is it?" Maria asked in a whisper.

"What?" the woman seemed shocked that Maria would speak and, well, so was Maria.

"Who is the correct option?

"I doubt you've met him."

"Is it John, her boyfriend? Nickey? Some uncle?"

"You forget that I am taking you as well."

"My father was a detective. I know some things."

"I'm sorry?"

"You just said 'him' not 'her' or some other gender neutral word. So, I'm assuming it's a man."

"If you must know, he is the most important man in London. If London were without him, this city would crumble and she doesn't even know it yet. Nor does he."

"Who is he?"

"He's a great, powerful man. Out of the entire population of London, only three people are brave enough to stand up to him... His roommate, Alexandria Colt, and me."

~!~!~!~!~!~

Frankie knew Alexandria's occupation was dangerous, and yet he still hung out with her. He knew Vanessa loved her and that was all he needed. He knew that one day, he could come home and Vanessa would be gone, kidnapped because because of some case.

Still, he couldn't get enough of Vanessa. He wanted to be with her all the time. He knew that she wanted to be with him, too. They were living together, so that could be a good sign. He'd wanted to be with Vanessa from the second he laid eyes on her, and now... now he was going to ask her to marry him.

However, he knew from the look on Alexandria's face that there was a case going on and everyone she knew was in danger, so he decided to postpone the proposal. He wanted to ask her, but he knew it would only hurt him if Vanessa was taken from him.

He knew Alexandria enough to know that right now wasn't a good time for personal matters. Now was a time to be cautious. Now was a time to take reasonable precautions and sleep with a gun under the pillow. Not that Frankie had a gun. Just a really scary looking knife.

Alexandria was his best friend, or his second best friend. His first was Vanessa, obviously, but Alexandria was his second. He may seem weird for having girls as best friends, but he's known them both ages. Frankie met Alexandria first in high school, then he met Vanessa.

He knew as soon as he met Alexandria that she was brilliant. She was able to read him with just a glance and it blew him away. He knew that she would never lie to anyone unless they had a good reason, do he would have to ask her why she was lying to John about her entire identity. It was obvious that she really liked John, so why was she hiding from him?

~!~!~!~!~!~

Sherlock was running behind John towards Crystal's best friend's house. Sherlock wasn't sure why he was concerned about this. He had better things to do. Besides, the girl wasn't missing yet. John could go and Sherlock could think back through all of the times he's been on a crime scene or in the police department.

Even as he ran, he was thinking. He was searching for a man with green eyes and black hair. So far, he hadn't thought about anything Nothing. He couldn't recall anyone of that description.

Suddenly, it hit him like a rock in the face. He'd seen Crystal before he met her at the museum. He'd seen her at another crime scene. It had been a long time ago, but he had seen her. She looked dressed up and professional and so young. Which begged the question... how old was Crystal and how long had she wanted to be a teacher?

Sherlock slowed to a stop, and John, frustrated, only stopped for a moment before running ahead. Sherlock had to ask Crystal what she was doing at the crime scene one year ago. And another one two years before. Sherlock turned and ran back the way he had come. Crystal was his main priority now.


	15. Chapter 15

**(A/N: All I can say is there is no excuse. Well, other than the stress of moving to another country doesn't just vanish... I'm not going to go into it. Anyway, I've been writing this chapter like crazy. I rewrote it like three times. It may not be all that good, seeing as I did write the last bit in like two hours.**

**Anyway, enjoy!) **

**Chapter 15 - Molly Hooper II (I am aware I got her name wrong earlier)**

_Nickey was gone. _Mum was gone. Now Maria was gone. They were being plucked like feathers from my back, and not in a good way. I needed those feathers to fly and without them, I was as useful as a piece of gravel.

I paced my apartment, too hyped up to sit down or catch up on sleep. All of this was all happening in just a couple of days. In one week, my entire family was taken from me. I knew I wouldn't get there in time to stop the woman from taking Maria, so I relied on my distant faith that she wouldn't hurt my sister.

I know, somehow, that my family is alive. I would know if one of them were to die, so that was a burden off of my shoulders, but they were still gone and I had no way of knowing who was going to be taken next and it was killing me. It's not like I could go anywhere now to check on anyone, it was late and everyone would be getting ready for bed.

I determined that if I couldn't do anything right now, I'd do it in the morning. So, if I couldn't sleep, I'd make myself some chamomile tea and take a sleeping pill. Having a job like mine, seeing what I've seen, you'd be surprised how useful these sleeping pills are. We higher ranking detectives worship them like gods.

About ten minutes later, I was in my favorite pajamas (my fluffy comfort ones) and smelling the tea while curled up in bed. As I waited for the pill to kick in, I sipped the hot, somewhat sweet tea. Mostly, I just smelled it, though. The smell of chamomile has been comforting me for two decades now, and there hasn't been a time where it hasn't calmed me.

Soon, I felt myself slipping to sleep and I was grateful. I put my tea on the bedside table and I curled up, holding my favorite pillow to me chest. I think I had been asleep for about ten minutes before I was roused by a loud banging at the door. God, what now? I ignored it at first, then when I heard it again, I groaned, pulling myself out of bed. I made my way to the front door without falling down the stairs or killing myself on anything.

"Yeah?" I asked once I opened the door.

"Crystal, we need to talk."

"Sherlock, can't this wait?"

"No." he pushed inside, dragging me up the stairs, "I'll make you some coffee."

"No, no. Sit down." I said sitting on the couch. Coffee after a sleeping pill was not part of the plan.

"Fine." he sat on the other end of the couch.

"What in the name of all that is holy do you need from me at this hour?" I yawned.

"It has been brought to my attention that you are not exactly who you say you are and I have come to set the record straight and to- are you even listening?"

"Hm?" I managed through my lips.

I knew I was curled into a ball in the corner of the couch, my head on the armrest. I was drifting off. Then, Sherlock grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to the middle of the couch. My feet fell off of the couch and I sat in the middle, my eyes not opening.

"Crystal Greene, listen to me. Where were you on April 7th, last year and September 19th the year before. It is vital for this case I am working on. If you don't tell me, more people might die and I will drive myself, and John insane."

"Can this wait?" I murmured.

"No."

It was too late, I was laying down, my head on Sherlock's knee, my body stretching out over the couch.

"You're comfortable." My eyes didn't open.

"Crystal, this is urgent."

"Shut up. Pillows don't talk."

"Oh, so I'm your pillow now?" Sherlock snarked, "I'm too busy to be your pillow, Crystal."

"I said, 'Shut up.'"

"Crystal-"

"Don't say another word or I will not help you." I managed.

I heard Sherlock sigh, exasperated, and lean back as if prepared for a long night. I grinned victoriously and adjusted myself so I could be more comfortable. After that, I didn't wake up. There was a bit of a haze when I woke up and some ungodly hour of the morning by Sherlock moving just enough to get the blanket off of the back of the couch and draping it over me.

I woke up to the smell of coffee. Strong coffee. Like, an espresso. But I really woke up because my coffee table was vibrating and my phone would not shut up. Groggily, I sat up, the blanket pooling at my waist and I grabbed my phone off of the table.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Alex, you're going to want to see this."

"Wha- Who?"

"My god, Alexandria, wake up. It's Molly."

"Oh, OH! Hi, Molly. Sorry about that." I said, "What's going on."

"I just did an autopsy on both of the 미녀 members and I... found something."

"What?"

"In their stomachs I found messages. I think you're going to want to see this."

"Now?"

"As soon as humanly possible."

"Alright." I said with a sigh, "Give me half an hour. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Good."

With that, we hung up and I turned on hyperspeed. I hurried to the bathroom and fixed my hair and brushed my teeth, ridding myself of the taste of some fabric. Then I ducked into my bedroom and changed into something professional looking Pencil skirt, jacket, heels, light on the make up, the works. When I emerged back into the living room, I went to the couch for my phone and I stopped in my tracks.

Sherlock was sitting there, eyes wide as if I'd simply snapped and I was dressed and ready for the day. Though, I was as equally shocked as he was.

"What in the _world_ are you doing here?" I asked.

"You told me to stay, so I did."

"What?"

"You told me that if I didn't continue to be your pillow, you wouldn't tell me anything."

"For God's sake, you keep running into Crazy Crystal. Not Mature Crystal. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Uh, we have to talk."

"Uh huh, yeah. Not now. I have to go see Molly. Something's wrong."

"Oh." Sherlock stood, "If something is wrong, I should go, too."

"It's... girl stuff." I said, "If you know what I mean."

"Oh... Girl stuff." Sherlock sounded as if he was pretending to understand what exactly was going on. It was clear he wasn't all that familiar with the ways of sexual reproduction.

"Yeah." I said, "I've gotta go, catch you later."

With that, I left Sherlock Holmes in my apartment. Actually, no, I didn't, I dragged him out with me and I left him on the street to stare after me wondering who the hell I was to use him as a pillow. God, I am such an idiot when I'm tired. And on drugs.

I ran to St. Barts, even in heels and made it there exactly when I said I would. Molly met me at the door and led me to her office. I sat down across from her at her desk and she pulled a file from under the mouse pad and she handed it to me, wordlessly. Something was up. That's for sure.

I opened the file and inside there were two pictures inside. Each of them were of a blood covered slip of paper with one word in the center in thick, but elegant, black letters.

"**The**"

"**Most**"

I eyed Molly.

"'_The most_?'" I asked.

"Yes." she finally said, "See, these were forced down their throats. They were drinking or eating something at the time these were consumed. Then they realized that they were choking on them as the paper cut their throats. That's how they died. Well, that and the almost unnoticeable bullet hole in the back of the neck."

"That's an unpleasant way to die." I said, observing the pictures.

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know." I sighed, "Can I get a copy of these?"

"Of course." Molly took the folder and left the room.

The most. What does that mean? Is there going to be a third death of a 미녀 member soon so I know? Part of me wants to know but another one doesn't want anyone else to die.

Then, Molly returned with my photocopies.

"Thank you, dear." I said, taking them.

"Anything for you. You know, you should come visit more often."

"I should, but I'm so busy."

"I know, I know. I'm being selfish."

"No you're not. Believe me, I miss you, too."

"We should go for coffee sometime."

"We will, eventually. I'm on a case at the moment, though."

"You're on a case?"

"Don't tell Lestrade. I'm serious." I said.

"Why?"

"I'm technically not supposed to be working."

"Ah. Of course." Molly grinned.

"Well, I have to go. John and I have a lunch date."

~!~!~!~!~!~

_Okay, so I didn't have a lunch date with John_. I actually had work. I just wanted to make it sound like I was doing something more interesting. When I got there, I changed into something more comfortable. Jeans and a blazer.

Seo Hwa Eun and Jacqueline were both there, obviously. Both were glowing, both for different reasons. Jacqueline had just taken the weekend off for some R&R and Hwa Eun was... well, I'm not sure she even knows yet, so I'll keep my mouth shut.

Today was actually quite busy. At least forty people came in for a book or a coffee, and that's good for a small shop like this. At least the word was out. Even if this was a temporary, half-time gig, it was fun. I got to interact with people who didn't annoy me or want to kill me. It was a change for once. A good one.

Even with the change, I missed the adventure and the danger. In a way, I supposed I was like Sherlock. I can't stand being bored. I can't stand not having something productive to occupy my mind. My job actually keeps me from going insane. I have so much going on in my head and so little at the same time that it was hard to keep everything straight. It's hard to keep my head on my shoulders with my head all together. It's exhausting.

I knew, deep down, that if I were to let go and let everything in my brain out, I would be like Sherlock. Only female. Stir crazy, doing experiments on body parts steal from the morgue and keeping them in the refrigerator where the apples should be, and quite sociopathic.

Though, in a way, that made me Sherlock's polar opposite. Unlike him, I was able to hold it together, absentmindedly sometimes. Unlike him, I was able to control all that was in my head and work through it piece by piece. Unlike him, I could sometimes find a way out of the boredom. I was cool, calm, and collected. He was, well, not.

I'm not saying I'm not smart. I'm not saying he's not smart. In fact, we're both brilliant. I mean, I'm nearly twenty six and I flew through school and the police academy. I am positive Sherlock went through high school with flying colors. All I am saying, is as far as highly-functioning sociopath people, we're both on different ends of the scale. I can control it and he can't.

Sherlock, however, does have different sides to him. Some of them I have seen and some I haven't, but I'm positive they're there. Somewhere in there, maybe he does have an on-off out of control sociopath switch, I don't know. He seems like a person who would be able to control himself, but I think he leaves it off just for fun.

John, I think, is a completely different kind of smart. He's in check and he knows what he's doing. He's got his head on straight and if it wasn't for him, Sherlock might have killed someone by now. John is sane and he wants to be normal, but without the abnormal, he'd go crazy as well. He misses the adrenaline rush of battle, and sometimes, just the battle of time is enough.

I admired John very much, and I was sure I'd never stop. I haven't still, and I don't regret it at all. Doctor John Watson is a brilliant man who is very good at keeping his feet on the ground and his head out of the clouds. He's an anchor of goodness and sanity, and I knew from the moment I met him that he would be my anchor as well as Sherlock. I knew that as soon as he found out who I was and I could be me a little more, he'd get upset with both Sherlock and I for being so alike, but it's not like we can help it.

It's unintentional, actually. I never tried to be Sherlock and it's obvious that he'd never tried to be me. Well, the me he doesn't know. I don't think for one second that he ever wanted to be like Alexander. I knew he'd never try to be Alexandria. Even with my experience, authority, power (if I'm being honest), and abilities, he'd never want to be like me. Even with a gun to his head. I would never want to be him, even with a gun to my head.

Sherlock and I were the same in many ways, but we were also very different. We were both very chaotic, but we channel that chaos into different things and benefit from them in different ways.

"Crystal!" a voice cut through my thoughts, "Crystal!"

"Sorry, what?" I snapped to attention and found Hwa Eun standing there, next to the stairs.

"I'm going for lunch, want anything?"

"No, I'll get something myself in a few."

"Okay." she started to leave, but stopped, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I said, continuing to sort the books alphabetically, "Why are you guys always asking me that?"

"Because you don't look fine."

"Well, I am. Don't worry about me."

"Alright." an unsure Hwa Eun descended the stairs, glowing, but not for the reason you might think.

Then, my phone rang. It was Molly. So soon? It had only been, what, five hours since I'd seen her last?

"Talk to me." I said, answering.

"Another one came in not ten minutes ago. You'd better get down here."

"Sure, sure." I had started gathering my purse and coat back together already.

"When can you be here?"

"Ten minutes."

"Good. I gotta go, see you when you get here."

With that, we hung up and I ran downstairs right into something very solid. I stumbled slightly and when I looked up... good Lord, this is getting predictable. What the hell did Sherlock want from me?

"What could you _possibly_ want from me?" I asked, "I have nothing you want and I am quite busy. Jacqueline, I'm eating out. Sorry. Personal emergency."

"Is everything alright?" Jacqueline asked as I pushed past Sherlock.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Alright..." Jackie trailed off and I left the bookshop.

"What is going on?" Sherlock asked, clearly having followed me.

"Nothing!" I exclaimed, "Oh my god, leave me alone. I don't think I could handle you right now."

"Why?" Sherlock sounded honestly confused.

"My job-" I stopped moving and turned to him, "Is stressful. I'm not even doing it and it's stressful. Do you understand what that's like?"

"Your job? You work in a shop."

"I do. I work in a shop. Knowing I can't do my other job correctly is stressful. You..." I trailed off, "You are a big ball of stress. You need to stay away from me today."

So, I left. I ran to St. Barts, just like before. My heels were hurting my feet in several different places, but that didn't stop me from running up three flights of stairs. I walked down the hall towards Molly's office definitively. There was a clue and I intended to know it.

I pushed open the door to Molly's office and stopped in my tracks. On the wall behind her desk were three words written in blood. "_The Most Important_" was in large red letters with three slips of paper underneath them. The ones that had been inside the 미녀. The most important. There were three dots after it as if it was supposed to continue, but the words weren't revealed to me.

"Molly!" I called, "Molly?"

I pulled my phone from my pocket and called her. Immediately, her phone came to life and started buzzing on her desk. My hand fell from my ear. Molly was gone. The 미녀 had taken her. Nicky, Mum, Maria, and now Molly. Who in the name of sanity is "The Most Important." Do they know something I don't? I sure as hell don't know the Queen personally, so that couldn't be it.

Could it possibly be Vanessa, or Frankie, or John? It's only a matter of time before they're taken. It's only a matter of time before another 미녀 is killed and another part of the message is revealed. Though now... now I have enough to make a decent investigation on. I have to dig into my own life and figure out... who is the Most Important?

My cousin, my mother, my sister, and a close friend. Who is this Min Ho guy? His name rang a bell, but I couldn't quite recall where I'd heard it before. Being me and coming into contact with several different bad guys in my lifetime, it's not all that great if I can't remember who Min Ho is.

"Detective?" I heard a voice behind me and I whirled around.

"Lestrade!" I exclaimed, "What-?"

"What are you doing here?" asked Lestrade, "You're off duty."

"What, I can't visit a friend every so often?" I asked, sounding more guilty than I would have liked.

"Alex..."

"Why are you so concerned with me right now when there is clearly a crime scene behind me." I said, turning sharply to face the room.

"They took Ms. Hooper?" Lestrade breathed.

"The 미녀? Yeah."

"What do they want with Molly?"

"I don't know and it's honestly not my job to figure it out." I said, turning back towards Lestrade.

"Yes it is." he said, sounding confused.

"Not now it isn't." I pushed past him and down the stairs.

As I descended, I pulled a small notebook out of my purse and on the very first blank page I came across, I wrote the words "The Most Important" trying to copy the elaborate font the message came in. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I looked up to make sure I was heading in the right direction. Sherlock was outside the door and he looked slightly out of breath. With a breath in, I turned sharply but I was stopped by his voice.

"For god's sake, Crystal." when I turned, he was standing there letting the door close behind him.

"What?" I asked.

"How in the name of sanity can you walk twenty four blocks to work, then run all the way to the hospital where Molly needs help in heels." Sherlock's voice was breathy as he tried to regain some composure.

"Easy." I said, "Practice. Now what do you want? You really need to leave me alone."

"I need you to answer some questions."

"Yeah, I know I do. I have some questions myself and I need some space so I can answer them by myself."

"No, I have some questions for you. Like, I want to know-"

"Yeah, yeah. Come back later. I'm busy." I pushed past Sherlock and out onto the street.

I easily hailed a taxi and before Sherlock could get a chance to follow, we drove off. For the first time since I set off from the bookshop, I was able to catch my breath. I took a deep breath, allowing my lungs to fill with sweet, sweet oxygen that smelled like the crappy air freshener in the taxi.

"Where are we going, lady?" a female voice said from the drivers seat.

"Hm? Oh, I'm terribly sorry." I told her the address.

"Right away, Miss Colt."

"Thank you." it took a moment to sink in, "I'm sorry_ what_?"

"Right away, Miss Colt."

"How do you know my name?" I asked, sitting forward. God, this job drove me crazy sometimes.

"Everyone in the 미녀 is required to know who you are. You are our biggest threat."

"Because of 민허, I know." I said.

"Min Ho?" the driver asked, "Isn't that that person that Hye Sun was so infatuated with?"

"Infatuated?"

"They had an interesting relationship. I can't remember if they were just friends, or related or what, but they were inseparable. That is, until he was taken in."

"So you have no idea who he... or she was?" I asked.

"No." So the mystery continues.

"Who are you?"

"I am Oh Eun Young." she said, looking back at me briefly, "I was told to tell you that it's over."

"What?"

"It's over. No one else is going to die. Our assassin is done with her work. She no longer has anyone to kill."

"So, you came here to tell me not to worry anymore about people dying? What about people in my life going missing."

"I'm sorry?"

"People in my life are going missing. My cousin, my mother, my sister and now a close friend. All are missing. For two of the disappearances, messages were written on the wall in blood. Their blood."

"Are you serious?"

"Very. I never kid about these sort of things."

"Who could have done it?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me. It's one of your operatives who's doing this." I exclaimed, "Something needs to be done. The people I love are being taken out from under me."

"Detective, I have no idea who could be doing such a thing."

"What are you up to?" I asked, squinting slightly.

"Nothing, I assure you."

"Fine, if you say so. Would you pull over?"

As soon as she did, I got out. I didn't pay and she didn't enforce it. So, I walked twelve blocks back to work. I got there ten minutes after I said I was going to, which wasn't good for anyone. Jacqueline and Hwa Eun saw how frazzled I was, so they didn't ask questions. I guess they figured it was family troubles.

The rest of the work day went by excruciatingly slow. It felt like years, when it was only about six hours. I suppose for a mundane work day, it was years on the soul. As soon as I could go home, I did.

I was scared, honestly. Whoever was taking my family wasn't just going to stop. Today is a perfect example. Molly was taken and the assassin was going to stop killing people. Well, their people anyway. The 미녀 assassin frightened me, honestly. I read each of their death reports and reports that Lestrade wrote and each murder played out exactly the same. The assassin is consistent in her killing method. The aftermath was always the same.

Certain objects in the house were placed just so around the body. It wasn't things like coffee makers or electric toothbrushes. It was things like a lamp placed at a certain angle, giving everything an eerie lighting, a strand of pearls around the victims right ankle, and an empty glass that must have previously held wine sitting delicately in their fingers.

When I reached my flat, who would have guessed it, Sherlock Holmes was waiting for me. I was getting sick of his face. I wanted nothing to do with him. At least, not right now. Not tonight, not tomorrow, or even the next day. His face was doing things to me and not in a good way. Just to give him a piece of my mind, I ignored him as I made my way to the door.

"You promised me answers."

"I was on drugs!" I turned sharply, "I was on sleeping pills and pure exhaustion. You can't trust anything I say. Also, what part of 'leave me the hell alone' don't you understand?"

With that, I went inside, locking the door with the key and the lock and chain. I ran upstairs and went into my bedroom. I gratefully changed into my PJ's and went out into the living room. I made myself a cup of tea, grabbed some chips from the cabinet and flipped on the TV.

There wasn't anything terribly good on, but I didn't want to go to bed yet and I didn't want to think about who would be next. I wanted it to just happen as it came. I should protect everyone I know, but who I really have to protect is the person I believe is the most important person in my life. Maybe they had already been taken. My mother is very important to me. Though, John has made such an impact on my life in such a short time. I've known Vanessa for as long as I can remember. I loved my sister so much that I agreed to live with her for three years. Molly and I have had some fantastic memories in the past five years. Nicky helped me through... everything, really.

If the Most Important person is the Queen, there is no possible way I could save her. The 미녀, however, aren't capable of that kind of espionage. At least, not in a small cell like this. If they had greater numbers, possibly, but not this small group of fifteen. Well, twelve now, but I'm pretty sure that two of them aren't involved anymore.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the women that were killed were all retired. Whether young or old, they had gotten sick of the 미녀 and left. Now, they were being killed off one by one. I'm sure I was given a list a few days back of all the members. Wow... was it that long ago? It was only a few days ago. Six? Seven at the most? Honestly, I had lost sense of time.

I got off the couch just to look for the purse I was using that day. As soon as I found it, I was on the couch again and I poured the contents onto the coffee table. Sure enough, there was the list. I read off the names to myself, but something wasn't right. Something was ever so slightly off. I couldn't tell what it was, but I knew that if I stared at it long enough and thought about it long enough, I would find it.

With a flick of the remote, I muted the TV and stared at the list. I wrote out each name in Korean and in English, which was harder than you might think. At least, for the slightly lesser trained. No offence. Then, it hit me.

Sharply, I stood and started pacing. There were only fourteen names. Two of the fourteen were dead, but there was nothing on the fifteenth. There was no one I knew that could possibly be a 미녀. I thought about it for a long time, but there was no one who I knew who could be a 미녀. Not a single person.

Defeated, I fell back down on the couch and stared dejectedly at the list that was set before me. How was I going to find that fifteenth member who clearly didn't want to be found. Hye Sun... that was who was doing this. Her name wasn't on the list. I cursed colorfully. There was no way to catch her unless I found out who the next person she was going to take was or to find out who the "Most Important" was.

If I'm going to be perfectly honest, and I always am, this "Most Important" stuff was bullshit. I don't have a most important person in my life. Everyone is sort of neutral. I love them all, just... neutrally. If that makes any sense at all. If my job wasn't so dangerous, then perhaps I would have a "Most Important", but my job is very dangerous, so I try not to keep to attached to my family, just to keep them safe.

Says the girl who lived with her sister for three years. Who went to see her mom in the midst of all of this. Who got Molly involved. It's all my fault, I knew it, but it didn't really sink in until right then. Maria I couldn't explain. She was taken, but I was having a row with her, so I wasn't all that keen on contacting her. With that logic, Vanessa should be next. If she goes, then it's almost certain that Frankie will go, too. Or John. In which order it goes, I'm not sure, but it was inevitable.

It wasn't over yet.


End file.
